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APRIL 1882 : JULY 1882 






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Ireland before and after Emancipation . . . i 

On the Clementine Liturgy .' . . , . 27 

Charles Lowder .••.... 57 

Convocation in 1701 . . . . , . . 69 

The Rise of Buddhism . . . . . ,88 

The Salvation Army . . . . . . . 107 

John Inglesant . . . . . . .134 

Half-a- Century of Cambridge Life . . . . 144 

Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters . . , .176 

Position and Prospects of Curates . . . . 199 

The Early Masters of Cologne . . . .257 

The Liturgy and Ritual of the Anglo-Saxon Church . 276 
Principal Shairp's Writings ..... 294 

Dr. Cyriacus's Ecclesiastical History . . . . 309 

On Preaching . . . . . . .332 

Charles Darwin and Evolution . . . . . 347 

Modern Pagan Poetry . . . . . .367 

The Writings and Life of Scotus Erigena . . . 390 

The Province of Scepticism and the Limits of Free 
Thought. . . . . . . .413 

Wordsworth's Bampton Lectures . . . . . 435 

The Religious Census and the National Church . .451 

Short Notices . . . . . . .219, 470 

Index ••...•••. 501 

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NO XXVIL April 1882. 


1. The Life, Times, and Correspondence of t/te Right Rev. Dr. 

Doyle, Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin, By W. J. FiTZ* 
PATRICK, LL.D. Two Volumes. New Edition. (Dub- 
lin, 1880.) 

2. Letters on t/te State of Ireland, Addressed by J. K. L. to 

a Friend in England. (Dublin, 1825.) 

3. A Vindication of the Religious and Civil Principles of the 

Roman Catholics. In a Letter addressed to his Excel- 
lency the Marquis Wellesley, K.G. By J. K. L. 
(Dublin, 1823.) 
J. Pieces of Irish History, illustrative of the Condition of the 
Catholics of Ireland, of the Origin and Progress of the 
Political System of the United Irishmen, and of their 
transactions with the Anglo-Irish Government. (New 
York, 1807.) 

5. The Speeches of the Right Hon. Henry Grattan. (Dublin, 


6. The Life and Speeches of Daniel O'Connell, M.P. Edited 

by his son, John O'Connell, M.P. (Dublin, 1846.) 

7. The Condition and Prospects of Ireland, and the Evils 

arising from the Present Distribution of Landed Property ; 
with Suggestions for a Remedy. By Jonathan Pim* 
(Dublin, 1848.) 

Great empires have frequently a thorn in the side, and 
perhaps generally by some fault of their own. Russia has 
long held Poland down with difficulty and by the strong arm ; 
France holds its solitary colony of Algeria upon the same 

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2 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

terms ; the new empire of Germany has already a malcontent 
province in Alsace-Lorraine ; and even free and constitutional 
England has its thorn in Ireland. Normally in a state of 
sulk, and breaking out periodically into paroxysms of vio- 
lence ; impervious to conciliation, and hardly obeying even 
the very plainest dictates of self-interest, Ireland and the 
Irish people make about the most uncomfortable partners 
possible for the steady-going, peaceable, law-abiding English- 
man. Whether the force of honest purpose on the part of 
England, and persistent endeavour to make amends for cen- 
turies of misrule and misunderstanding between the races, 
will at last overcome the sullen reluctance and aversion which 
still holds England and Ireland apart, it is too soon as yet to 
say. To a generation which has seen the entente cordiale 
between England and France, or, more striking still, which 
has looked on while Austria made its peace with Hungary, 
and united with it in peaceful constitutional union, hardly any- 
thing can be incredible ; and experience seems to teach that 
a policy of conciliation fairly and perseveringly pursued must 
at length break down the strongest animosities, whether 
between races or individuals. But as yet there are few signs 
of that much-to-be-wished-for result. The student on this 
side of the Irish Channel can but continue to view with an 
attention needful, though it can hardly be called agreeable, 
the successive phases of Irish discontent, as they are evolved 
in due order before his eyes. Perhaps he may surprise the 
secret of bringing about a permanent order out of disorder ; 
perhaps, and more probably, there will be little or no result 
of all his watchfulness. His labour may have to be, like 
virtue, its own reward. He is not on that account, however, 
to consider himself absolved from that careful study of the 
facts of the case which may qualify him, at least, to make 
the attempt. 

We shall begin our retrospect with 1782, the year of a 
great political triumph for the Irish party ; viz. the repeal of 
the 6th George I., known as Poynings' Act, by which the 
Irish Parliament had previously been controlled in its legis- 
lative acts by the English Privy Council : an Act which 
dated originally from 1494. This was, it must be remem- 
bered, the period of the penal laws, of a chronic state of 
hostilities with the Continental Powers, particularly with 
France, and of an almost prohibitory commercial policy on 
the part of the British Government, which pressed heavily 
upon Irish trade and manufactures. The British army, at all 
times small, was required in America, on the Continent, in 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 3 

half a dozen parts of the world at once. Ireland was de- 
nuded of troops. An hostile expedition might at any- 
time have been landed on its shores by some Continental 
Power at war with England, and there were no means of 
defence in existence. Application was made to Government 
to station more soldiers in Ireland, to secure it from a sudden 
attack. The reply from the Secretary of State, Sir Richard 
Heron, was that none were at their disposal. 

In such a condition of affairs, the population had only 
themselves to depend on ; and with a brave and combative 
race like the Irish, the understanding of this fact instantly 
occasioned measures for self-defence. A Volunteer move- 
ment was commenced, and spread with remarkable quickness. 
All classes were seized with a military enthusiasm, and (we 
seem to be writing rather of England than of Ireland) gentry, 
farmers, tradesmen served in the ranks side by side. Lord 
Charlemont organized the iirst regiment, which chose Armagh 
as its head-quarters, and he himself took the command of it 
This was in 1777. County after county took up the move- 
ment, and with a totally unexpected alacrity raised and 
equipped one or more regiments of Volunteers, of which the 
men, when enrolled, elected their own officers. In a brief 
time nearly a hundred thousand volunteers had been mus- 
tered, and officered by men of the first rank and consideration. 
To all intents and purposes a national militia, if we do not 
call them a standing army, they performed many duties of 
police, escorted the Judges of Assize on their circuits, guarded 
prisoners to and from the gaols, assisted in the maintenance 
of public order, and were constantly en Evidence and before 
the eyes of their countrymen. But, strangest of all, this 
force was not under the control of the Crown ; and it was at 
once evident, although no disloyalty was alleged against any 
corps at first, that a force had been created that could as 
easily be turned against the Government as for it It is in- 
conceivable how any responsible Government could have 
supinely permitted so formidable a force to be created among 
a population more or less disaffected to their rule. But when 
it was once brought into existence, the opportunity for inter- 
fering with effect had passed ; and it become impossible to 
suppress or even to control the Volunteers, except (as it was 
too soon shown) through the bloody and costly process of 
crushing a rebellion. 

The leaders of the popular party saw their opportunity, and 
used it. What Government, they argued, would venture to 
oppose a party with a hundred thousand armed men at its 

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4 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

back ? And their expectation seemed about to be realized. 
Accordingly, the English Government endeavoured to con- 
ciliate. Some relaxation of the penal laws against Roman 
Catholics was made in 1778, and the laws restricting Irish 
trade were repealed in the following year. 

Growing bolder with this success, the Irish Houses of 
Lords and Commons concurred in 1782 in an address to the 
King, claiming that * the Crown of England is an Imperial 
Crown, but that Ireland is a distinct Kingdom, with a Parlia- 
ment of her own, the sole Legislature thereof.* The English 
Parliament assented to this claim with a strange facility ; 
Charles James Fox, who was the ruling spirit in the then 
Administration — ^the short-lived one of Lord Rockingham — 
remarking that 'he would rather see Ireland wholly separated 
from the Crown of England than kept in subjection by 
force;* and he added that 'unwilling subjects were little 
better than enemies.* The curb, therefore, was by common 
consent taken off the Irish Parliament. The control had 
doubtless been less weighty in practice than it would appear 
to be in theory ; and it might seem the less dangerous for- 
mally to dispense with it, that the Houses were composed of 
adherents and warm partisans of the English connexion. 
No serious consequences in fact followed this step. The 
great Irish leaders. Flood and Grattan, quarrelled with each 
other ; the Young Ireland party was divided therefore into two 
camps, and the public attention was drawn away by the 
savage attacks of the rival champions upon each other. Thus 
their next movement, in favour of a Reform of the (Irish) 
House of Commons,* so as to withdraw it from the influence 
of the English Government, altogether failed. A Convention 
of the Volunteers was called to support the movement. At 
Belfast met five hundred delegates from two hundred and 
seventy two corps, and passed resolutions urging the Vo- 
lunteers of Leinster, Munster, and Connaught to seek for 
themselves those electoral franchises necessary to their 
participating in the management of their own affairs, and 
without which * the forms of a free government would be a 
curse, and existence cease to be a blessing.* A still more 
imposing demonstration, in which many members of both 

1 It can hardly be said to have been without justification. Unless 
the Parliament of that day was very much calumniated, the state of 
things was quite as bad as the * rotten boroughs ' of England. Two- 
thirds of the three hundred members of the Irish House of Commons 
are asserted to have been the nominees of not more than a hundred 
persons. As a consequence it was ' notoriously venal.* 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 5 

houses of the Irish Parliament took part, was held in the 
Rotunda at Dublin. But it was all to no purpose. Grattan 
would not actively support, though he did not oppose, the 
project, which was identified with the name of his rival, 
Henry Flood. Without any leader of commanding ability, 
the members of the Convention quarrelled among themselves. 
There is little doubt that the Government, through its 
partisans, secretly fomented these divisions.* The Conven- 
tion separated at length without taking any decided step ; and 
the complete failure of a meeting from which so much had 
been hoped drew after it the condemnation of that Volunteer 
movement upon which it had been based. It had dis- 
appointed expectation, and lost most of its moral weight 
thereby. The Volunteer corps were gradually dissolved ; 
although doubtless the ranks of the Irish rebellion, which 
broke out ten years later, owed much to this previous 

The Irish Estates were now independent in the exercise 
of the legislative power. But a large portion, indeed the 
larger portion, of the population were altogether outside the 
sphere of this independence. The Protestant Dissenters of 
the North, no less than the Roman Catholics of the South and 
West, were excluded from all share in political power ; a facr 
the pressure of which was never forgotten. The failure then 
of Flood's efforts to remedy this evil drove all classes of the 
aggrieved into fresh agitation. A new political association, 
*3ie United Irishmen,' was formed in Ulster, in 1791 ; and 
for the next few years continued to be the centre of revolu- 
tionary and treasonable designs; It can hardly be doubtful 
that had the Premier, Mr. Pitt, been free to act as he thought 
best, much of what these men banded together to obtain 
would have been speedily conceded. He had already, in 
1792, induced the Irish Parliament to pass measures for the 
admission of Roman Catholics to the electoral franchise and 
to certain offices both civil and military within Ireland. But 
these instalments of Reform were far too small to allay the 
excited feelings of the peasantry, now fast rising to the point 
of exasperation. Fresh societies, the * Defenders * and * Peep 
o' Day Boys' on the one side, and the 'Orange' lodges on 
the other, filled the country with outrages, such as those with 
which the last two years have made even this generation so 

1 The then Lord Lieutenant, Lord Northington, wrote to Fox with a 
cynical frankness : ' Our next step was to try, by means of our friends in 
the assembly, to perplex its proceedings, and to create confusion in its 

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6 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

unhappily familiar. The Pitt Ministry would have been 
willing to go further still in the direction of concession. Lord 
Fitzwilliam, who had been sent over by them in 1794 as 
Viceroy, was in full agreement with the intention of a Bill 
for the entire emancipation of the Roman Catholics, which 
Grattan was desirous to introduce in the following spring. 
But the Cabinet was divided on the question. The Orange 
party went, it is said, so far as to threaten revolt, if emanci- 
pation were granted ; and Lord Fitzwilliam was recalled. 
His successor, Lord Camden, was consistently opposed to 
any concession whatever to the Roman Catholic claims ; 
and after this disappointment, the waves of distinctly revolu- 
tionary agitation rolled higher and higher. Now for the first 
time Irishmen began to look to the foreign enemies of 
England. One of the leaders of the United Irishmen, 
Wolfe Tone, crossed over to France in 1796 to seek support 
from the Directory for an Irish revolt. France, at that time 
in a state of chronic war with England, eagerly welcomed 
the proposal to embarrass her great rival. In the exceedingly 
curious collection of pikes Jusiificaiives issued in America by 
Dr. MacNeven (who was a member with O'Connor and 
Emmett of the secret executive of the United Irishmen), the 
following account is given of these negotiations and their 
issue : — 

* About October, 1796, a messenger from the Republic arrived, 
who, after authenticating himself, said he came to be informed of 
the state of the country, and to tell the leaders of the United 
Irishmen of the intention of the French to invade it speedily with 
15,000 men, and a great quantity of arms and ammunition. Shortly 
after his departure, a letter arrived from a quarter which there was 
reason to look on as confidential, stating that they would invade 
England in the spring, and positively Ireland. .... No attempt or 
advance was made to renew the negotiation till April, 1797, when an 

agent was sent About this time a letter arrived, which assured 

us the French would come again, and requested that a person should 

be sent over to make previous arrangements This person 

departed in the latter end of June, 1797. By both these agents, 
rather a small number of men, with a ^eat quantity of arms, 
ammuhition, artillery and officers were required. A small force only 
was asked for, because the executive, faithful to the principle of 
Irish independence, wished for what they deemed just sufficient to 
liberate their country, but incompetent to subdue it. Their most 
determined resolution, and that of the whole body, being collected 
as far as its opinion could be taken, always has been in no event to 
let Ireland come under the dominion of France, but it was offered to 
pay the expenses of the expedition. The number required was 
— noo men at the most, and at the least 5,000 ' (pp. 223-226). 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 7 

The attempt at invasion was in fact made and failed. A 
squadron of forty sail, carrying a force of 25,000 men, under 
General Hoche, the victor of La Vendte, eluded the British 
fleet, and made its way towards Ireland in December, 1796; 
but the ships were dispersed by a storm ; twelve were taken, 
and seventeen reached Bantry Bay, only to return to France 
without daring to land the troops on board. 

What the consequence would have been of the landing of 
the entire force under a leader so able as Hoche, it would be 
hard to say. How wide-spread the panic had been may, how- 
ever, be gathered from the measures taken afterwards. Mar- 
tial law was proclaimed, and columns of soldiers and yeo- 
manry scoured the country, striking terror into the peasantry, 
or * croppies * as they were nicknamed from their short-cropped 
hair, by the infliction of hideous severities, which speedily pro- 
voked equal retaliation. *The insurrection,' said MacNeven 
before the secret committee of the House of Commons, in 
August, 1798, 'was occasioned by the house-burnings, the 
whippings to extort confessions, the torture of various kinds, 
the free quarters, and the murders committed upon the people 
by the magistrates and the army.' Thomas Emmett said 
substantially the same thing; and the statement may be 
accepted, so far as regards the immediate (and probably 
premature) explosion of the insurrection. These leaders 
avowed that 'they wished to keep back the insurrection.' 
Lord Castlereagh on the contrary referred to * the means taken 
to make it explode.' ^ Another descent of the French was 
promised and expected, and *it was our wish to wait, if 
possible, their arrival.' But the exasperation of the people 
would not suffer this. The energy with which the Govern- 
ment acted forced on the crisis. On March 12, 1798, Lord 
Edward Fitzgerald, who had been designated as chief .com- 
mander of the rebel forces, was arrested with three other 
leaders. On May 4 the Roman Catholic peasantry of the 
south rose in arms. A body of 14,000 men, headed by a 
village priest, marched on Wexford and seized the town. 
Reprisals on the Protestant inhabitants at once followed. 
Some were flung into the river, others imprisoned and fined. 
Such outrages as these at once destroyed whatever small 
chances of success the revolt may at first have had. The 
United Irishmen in the North, who were mostly Protestants, 
drew back. Even the Roman Catholic gentry in the South, 
who might have been expected to sympathize with the move- 

1 MacNeven*s Examination, p. 242. 

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8 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

ment, were repelled by conduct which threatened all classes 
alike with general disorder and lawlessness. The English 
troops meanwhile were swiftly gathering around the rebel 
army, Theircamp at Vinegar Hill was stormed by Lord Lake 
on May 21, and the defenders killed or dispersed. All the 
summer long the soldiers were occupied in trampling out, in 
scattered parishes and distant mountain glens, the dying 
embers of the insurrection ; and hardly was the work over 
when the French succours, or at least a detachment of them, 
actually landed. Eluding the British cruisers, a force of 
1,500 men, under General Humbert, stole along the iron- 
bound north-west coast, and landed in Killala Bay, Humbert 
was a brave and energetic officer ; but his blow was struck 
too late, and he had lost his chance. He succeeded, indeed, 
in pushing back a force of militia and yeomanry, which had 
been sent to intercept him, and in taking possession of Castle- 
bar. But his force remained isolated ; the peasantry, how- 
ever well affected, had little disposition to risk another battle 
of Vinegar Hill ; and, surrounded and greatly overmatched, 
Humbert was under the necessity of surrendering himself and 
Jiis whole force to Lord Cornwallis on September 8, 1798. 

Thus, at a cost of 20,000 English lives, and probably of 
not less than 1 50,000 Irish, the insurrection had been crushed 
-out It remained for the Government to improve their victory ; 
and this they were not slow to do. 

At the beginning of the next year (1799), the Prime 
Minister, Mr. Pitt, brought forward a project for the legisla- 
tive union of the Irish Parliament with that of England, 
Experience had shown that the violence of faction was 
-embittered to the last degree by the lodgment of the supreme 
legislative power in the hands of a single and comparatively 
limited party. No law had too sharp an edge for them to 
turn against their political opponents, if it appealed to their 
interests or their fears; and the present generation, which 
has seen what tactics Irish members of the British Parliament 
can on occasion stoop to employ, can form some conception 
of the method of transacting business in the Irish Legislative 
Chambers, where all sections were alike familiar with that 
very peculiar method of transacting business. The British 
Premier thought it at least possible that the Union would 
take the conduct of affairs out of the hands of a selfish 
faction, and lodge it with persons who were competent and 
comparatively disinterested, the Lords and Commons of 
England. And history will doubtless verify the correctness 
of this supposition, and rightly estimate the great benefits 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 9 

thereby conferred upon all classes in Ireland, whatever may- 
be thought of the effect produced upon the English House 
of Commons. It is perhaps no more than was to be expected 
from the perversity of human nature, that no sooner was this 
Legislature, of which the Irish had complained so bitterly, 
transferred to England, than they wanted to have it back 
again. The cry for * Home Rule,' with which we are so un- 
happily familiar of late, is apparently prompted by nothing 
more than the desire to have these old abuses back again, but 
with the parts changed and the Roman Catholics in the as- 
cendant, which their numbers would enable them easily to 
obtain. An assembly composed of docile followers of an 
Ultramontane clergy might be safely trusted to do some 
very strange things ; and the nineteenth century might even 
have the opportunity of seeing once more put into practice 
the old maxims of religious intolerance, and deliverance of 
obstinate heretics to the * secular arm,' with the request, of 
course, that they might be gently dealt with. But this is by 
the way. 

However beneficent the after effects of the Union, it was 
by no commendable methods that it was carried through the 
Irish Parliament, to every one of the selfish interests of whose 
members it was diametrically opposed. Not less than a 
million of money was, it is believed, spent in buying off the 
opposition of the boroughmongers, while pensions and even 
peerages were bestowed with a lavish hand upon other oppo- 
nents. It is not a creditable chapter in the history of either 
country. But the English Ministers might reasonably plead 
that they adapted their conduct to the class of men they had 
to deal with ; that no other inducements would have had the 
remotest chance of succeeding ; and that it was essential, in 
the interests of Ireland itself no less than those of England, 
that the thing should be done and done speedily. 

Substantial benefits to the whole of Ireland, it must be 
allowed, immediately followed the passing of the Act of 
Union, which became law January i, i8oi. Every restric- 
tion upon the trade between the two countries was im- 
mediately removed ; the English and Irish Exchequer 
became united, and the currency of the two countries was 
assimilated : acts of which the beneficial effect was speedily 
visible, and which vastly increased the prosperity and wealth 
of the Irish people, though they did not secure their 

The stage was now clear for the next great event in 
Irish history, Roman Catholic Emancipation, We obtain 

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lo Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

at this point a fresh guide, in the memoirs of the remarkahrle 
man whose life we have prefixed to this paper. Bishop 
Doyle has the distinction among his co-religionists — and it is 
of no small worth — of having been among the most powerful 
champions of their religious franchises, perhaps, with the 
single exception of Daniel 0*Connell, the most powerful and 
effective of all. From the time when he began to occupy a 
public station, his life was part of the history of Ireland ; 
quortimpars magna fui, he might have said of all the religious 
questions of his day. His powerful and masculine intellect, 
and extensive learning, enabled him to treat many questions 
with remarkable facility and force, and to make himself as 
great a power in the literature of his generation as another 
Irishman, Dean Swift, or as Bishop Berkeley, had been in 
previous generations. 

We shall therefore endeavour to follow the incidents of 
the struggle for Emancipation, as they are reflected in the 
life of Bishop Doyle. It may be well to begin by supplying 
here some brief sketch of the * penal laws ' under which the 
Roman Catholics of Ireland had so long writhed, as an 
appropriate preface and background to the narrative of their 

^ Could you,' says J. K. L., in one of his powerful pamphlets, ' by 
any power create a happy valley, like that to which Rasselas was 
introduced, in every parish in Ireland, and place all the inhabitants 
within it, yet if you left the penal laws on the Statute book, though 
not in operation, you would not remove the discontent and heart- 
burnings from Ireland. There are thousands of people in this 
country who scarcely know the nature of any law, whether favourable 
or penal ; but you will not find an old woman, or a ragged child, who 
has not imbibed from the breast, or is not taking into the grave, the 
hatred and horror of the system by which you govem the Irish 
Catholics. They know not what the system is, but they think it is 
a something horribly, ineffably unjust and wicked.' ^ 

And an observer, not himself belonging to the incriminated 
class, speaks in no less decisive a manner as to the effect of 
these laws : 

* It is not merely^ as it regards education, that the penal laws have 
been injurious; their influence has been extremely hostile to the 
interests of morality. It is impossible for any one to travel in 
Ireland without observing that they have made a character, naturally 
open and unsuspecting, jealous, and in some instances deceitful. 
They have operated as a check to the exercise of the tender and 
endearing charities of life ; they have literally attempted to divide 

■^ ^ Letters on the State of Ireland^ ix. p. 286. 

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i882* Ireland before and after Emancipation. 1 1 

the father against the son, and the son against the father. They 
have placed the people in circumstances in which prevarication and 
cheating are natural; in which the low vices of savage life are 
produced. . • * . . .'^ 

The penal laws themselves were shortly these : — 

1. As to education. — No Papist could be admitted to 
Trinity College, Dublin, except by conforming to the Es- 
tablished Church, and taking all the tests, oaths and declara- 
tions. No Popish university could be endowed or even 
erected ; and no Popish school could be endowed. A Papist 
who should take the oath of allegiance, and make certain 
other declarations, was thereby qualified to instruct, either 
publicly or privately, youth of his own persuasion, but he 
was not to admit any Protestant into his school, nor to 
become an usher or under-master to any Protestant school- 
master. Protestants and converts from Popery, who edu- 
cated their children as Papists, were to be subject to the 
same disabilities as Papists ; and if any such convert, being 
a justice of the peace, was convicted of having done that, he 
was to be fined lOO/., be imprisoned for a year, and become 
incapable of being an executor, administrator, or guardian. 

The children of Papists were deemed to be Papists until 
they should conform to the Established Church. 

Papists other than ecclesiastics, who had taken the oath 
of allegiance and made certain other declarations, became 
thereby qualified to be guardians of their own children, or of 
the child of a Papist, but not of the child of a Protestant. 

2. As to Marriage. — Every marriage celebrated by a 
Popish priest between two Protestants, or between a Papist 
and a Protestant, was absolutely null and void ; and the 
priest celebrating it was guilty of felony and to suffer death. 
Magistrates might summon any person on mere suspicion, 
and examine them on oath respecting their knowledge of 
such a marriage. 

3. As to Exercise of Religion, — All superstitious meetings 
and assemblies of pilgrims at wells and pretended sanctified 
places * were declared riots and unlawful assemblies.' Crosses 
and pictures publicly set up were to be demolished. All 
monasteries, friaries, nunneries, or other Popish fraternities or 
societies, were forbidden. No burials were to take place in 
the vacated buildings not used for Divine service. Secular 
priests registered as such, and having taken the oath and 
declaration prescribed, and also regular priests who were 

^ Dewafs Observations^ p. 21 [second paging]. 

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12 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

actually in the country at the passing of the Act (21st and 
22nd Geo. III. ch. 24), might officiate in private, but not in 
' any church or chapel with a steeple or bell/ nor at any 
funeral in a churchyard. Nor might they •'assume any 
symbol or mark of ecclesiastical dignity or authority, or 
assume or take any ecclesiastical rank or title.' Popish 
ecclesiastics not so qualifying were to be imprisoned until 
* transported beyond seas.' To return was high treason, and 
any one harbouring such returned ecclesiastics was to forfeit 
20/. for the first offence, 40/. for the second, and for a third 
all his goods real and personal. Every Popish priest who 
became a Protestant was to receive 40/. yearly from the. 
county in which he last officiated as a Roman priest, until 
he should be provided for by some ecclesiastical benefice or 
licensed curacy of the same or greater value. If any person 
should seduce a Protestant to renounce the Protestant and 
profess the Popish religion, 'the seducer and the seduced 
shall incur the penalty oi prcemunire' 

4. As to Property, — Papists who had taken the oath and 
declaration were allowed in 1782 (through recent relaxations 
of the law) to hold and acquire real estate the same as 
others. But they might not purchase any advowson ; and 
the right of presentation to any benefice, belonging to any 
Papist, was vested in the Crown. They might take lands or 
tenements in any manor or borough, by sale or bequest, 
if previously belonging to a Papist : not if the seller, testator, 
or ancestor were a Protestant In that case, the lands in 
question went to the next Protestant *of the inheritable 
blood.' Papists might take leases, but not upon secret trusts, 
and such were ' discoverable ' in a court of law, and might be 
forfeited. If the wife of a Papist had become a Protestant, 
the courts of law would make provision for her out of his 
property at their discretion ; or for children in the same case, 
even during his life, on a bill being filed in Chancery. 

^. As to Franchises. — No person could hold any ecclesi- 
astical office without making a declaration against transub- 
stantiation ; nor any office or employment, civil or military ^ 
except the office of high constable, overseer of the poor, 
churchwarden, surveyor of the highways, or any like inferior 
civil office. The penalties for breach of the law were very 
heavy : a fine of 500/. and deprivation of civil rights. Papists 
were not entitled to vote at vestries, except they were church- 
wardens ; were not to be parochial watchmen ; nor, though 
barristers, could they be King's Counsel ; nor advocates, nor 
proctors, nor sub-sheriflfs ; nor were Regius Professorships of 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 13 

medicine open to them ; nor might they serve on grand juries 
unless a sufficient number of Protestants could not be had. 

No Papist could vote at any municipal election, or at the 
election of any member of Parliament If elected a member, 
he could not sit nor vote until he had made the declaration 
against transubstantiation ; nor, if a peer, could he vote or 
give a proxy until he had done this, which was of course 
equivalent to abjuring Romanism. 

Such (minor details of hardship being omitted) were the 
penal laws, now happily swept off the pages of the statute 
book for ever. They had, however, endured, in even greater 
severity than the above sketch discloses, for two hundred 
years. They had ruined many opulent Roman Catholic 
families. Dr. Doyle himself, his biographer states, belonged 
to a family whose estates had been confiscated in pursuance 
of them. Hundreds of others had been driven or attracted to 
conform to Protestantism. The mark that they have made 
on the history of Ireland and on the character of her people 
is both deep and lasting. 

James Doyle was born in 1786, a posthumous child, 
whose widowed mother supported herself and him by acting 
as village schoolmistress at Clonleigh near Ross. He is 
described by Dr. Phelan as * the noisiest little creature I ever 
knew ; half dressed, he used to scamper upon the common at 
Clonleigh, and shout vociferously.' He was in his twelfth 
year when the insurrection of 1798 broke out, and, living in a 
district which was one of the chief centres of its strength, he 
saw much of its progress. Indeed, he once came unpleasantly 
near being made a party in the struggle, boy as he was : 

I Accompanied by his friend, Martin Doyle, afterwards pastor of 
Graignamana, who resided, when a boy, near Ross, they incautiously 
sauntered along the banks of the Barrow while the district continued 
to be still disturbed. A sudden but irregular discharge of musketry 
aroused them to a sense of their danger; and, in less time than we 
take to write it, a hot conflict between the royal troops and the in- 
surgents proceeded to rage around. Martin Doyle dragged the 
future bishop, who was by some years his junior, "into a clump of 
furze, and there anxiously awaited the cessation of hostilities. Dr. 
Doyle, many years after, in a conversation with Martin, referred to 
this incident of their young days. " The only beating I ever got," 
he said, " was from you, while both of us lay concealed in the furze 
bush." " Vou deserved it, my Lord," was the reply. " You kept 
popping up your little black head after every volley, to see if the 
battle was over. I at last lost all patience, and flogged you unmerci- 
fully with a hazel switch. You lay pretty quiet zi\jtx—Deo gratias!-^ 
for had our hiding-place been observed, we should, in all probability, 
have been piked or bayoneted ' (vol. i. p. 9) ^ 

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14 Ireland before and after Emancipation, April 

In 1805 he entered upon his novitiate as a * Hermit of 
S. Augustine ' at Grantstown. Later on, instead of preparing 
at Maynooth for holy orders, he determined to pursue his 
studies at the ancient University of Coimbra in Portugal. 
He was rightly of the opinion, which he expressed in after 
years, that ' a person receives greater information and improves 
his talent more by studying at a university than at any private 
colleges/ He might have added that religious and theological 
studies are best carried on in a country where the type of 
religion they are intended to inculcate is placed in such a 
position of popularity and advantage as to develop to the 
utmost all its capabilities. Where the dominant tone of 
thought is hostile to a particular form of religion, there the 
students belonging to that communion will involuntarily feel 
themselves under a shade. They will be forced into a de- 
fensive position, which is no small disadvantage to all men, 
and particularly to young men. The depressed state in which 
the Roman obedience in Ireland was during James Doyle's 
student years doubtless incapacitated the native institutions 
for imbuing the minds of their students so thoroughly with 
the principles of their faith as could be done in countries 
where, as in Portugal, \i was in the ascendant. The air was 
full of an antagonistic principle, hateful and depressing to 
adherents of the Pope. And this inability was not because 
of any deficiency in the studies, or of want of ability in 
individual teachers, for the college courses in Ireland and on 
the Continent were, as Dr. Doyle himself testified, much 
the same, but because a university -alone affords the width 
and completeness of culture which is supplied by a large 
staff of instructors, each with his special department of learn- 
ing, and each, also, presumably among the foremost men in 
it ; that stir of intellectual excitement, that stimulus to a 
generous emulation, arising from the contact and collision of 
many minds. Now Irish Roman Catholics were at this time 
excluded by the tests not only from their own single uni- " 
versity of Trinity College, Dublin, admission to which, as an 
Elizabethan foundation, they could hardly even profess to 
expect (though it has in our day been granted to them), but 
also from every other university in the United Kingdom. 
James Doyle did well, therefore, to go to Coimbra. 

He had been somewhat more than two years at Coimbra 
when the invasion of Portugal by the French armies took 
place, and the national rising against them which speedily 
followed brought a new page into his experience of life. All 
ages and conditions of men were summoned to arms. A mili- 

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1 882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 15 

tary corps was formed from among the students of the uni- 
versity ; and in this Doyle was conspicuous. To the British 
army under Sir Arthur Wellesley, which landed in Mondego 
Bay in the summer of that year, he and some other Irish 
students rendered, from his intelligence and intimate know- 
ledge of the language and the people, important services ; and 
for the short six months which elapsed before he finally 
quitted Portugal, he spent a busy, hurried, and adventurous 
time, during which he saw much of men and of affairs, and 
mingled both in war and in diplomacy. Many offers were, 
it seems, made to him, if he would enter permanently the 
Portuguese service ; but he declined all, and returned to 
Ireland in December, 1808. 

Doyle now went back to his convent at Ross ; and in 1809 
and 1 8 10 was ordained successively deacon and priest For 
some years he had charge of a class in theology there, and in 
1 81 3 he was invited to fill the chair, at first of Rhetoric and 
afterwards of Divinity, in Carlow College, one of the most 
important at that time of the theological institutions of the 
Roman Church in Ireland. We have an amusing account of 
his first introduction to the head of it : — 

* Mr. Doyle was shown into Dean Staunton's presence. He had 
never before seen Mr. Doyle. He surveyed the lofty figure from 
top to toe, and, after a momentary scrutiny, inquired what he could 
teach. "Anything," replied Doyle, sonorously, "from A, B, C, to 
the Extra Vagantes,^^ This supplement to the books of canon law,* 
and which, among students, sometimes gives rise to obvious punning, 
embraces a stage of theological lore rarely attained by the ordinary run 
of ecclesiastics. Dr. Staimton did not quite like the confidence of the 
answer, nor the tinge of haughtiness which stamped his mien. Long 
accustomed to the tuition of youth, a rebuke flowed with ease from 
the president's lips : " Pray, young man," he said, " can you teach 
and practise humility ? " "I trust I have at least the humility to 
feel," replied the friar, " that the more I read the more I see how 
ignorant I have been, and how little can, at best, be known " ' (i. p. 49). 

During the six years which he retained this post his mind 
and powers were visibly maturing, and * his reputation as a 
wise and learned ecclesiastic increased daily.' He had now 
outgrown that rusticity of habits and manners which had 
marked him when he emerged from his convent to go to 

^ The author does not describe quite accurately. The Extravagantes 
are certain decretals of the later Popes, beginning with Pope John XXII., 
which were not digested or ranged with the rest in the earlier collections. 
But they form a part of the existing canon law, and therefore can hardly 
be called a supplement to it 

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1 6 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

He had become most punctilious in person and dress, 

* erect, grave, reserved, dignified and austere ; ' he was now 
ad unguent the college don, and, as some said, the future 
Bishop. Rumours became frequent of his nomination to 
this or that see. The aged Bishop of Kildare, if we are to 
credit a story somewhat hesitatingly told by his biographer, 
uttered a kind of prophecy that he should in three years be 
succeeded by * the greatest ecclesiastic that ever graced Kil- 
dare ; ' and referred in thus speaking to Doyle. Dr. Doyle 
was nominated to the See of Kildare and Leighlin as dig- 
nissimus in 1819 ; and having been selected by the Pope out 
of the three names sent, as is (we are told) usual, to Rome as 
candidates, he was consecrated in November, 1819.^ 

He seems to have received the news of his nomination 
with a proper seriousness of spirit ; * he coloured deeply as 
good-natured congratulations came from those around.' 

* There is not much cause for congratulation,' he said ; * never- 
theless, if it is God's will that I should accept this responsi- 
bility, then God's will be done.' He would have been more 
or less than mortal had he not looked forward with a pardon- 
able ambition, and been gratified when the object of it was 
attained. His nolo episcopari, therefore, was in all probability 
no more than was usual and considered decent. But he re- 
sisted with becoming seriousness the proposal of friends at 
Rome, more zealous than discreet, to bring personal influ- 
ence to bear to ensure the selection of his name. He pro- 
tests : ' I am ready to accept of any responsibility which the 
Church in its wisdom may think me fitted to bear ; but if I 
thought for a moment that my elevation to the mitre was 
attributable to any irregular influence among my friends, I 
would resist to my last breath that burden which should be 
" dreaded by even the shoulders of an angel." ^ Nothing under 
heaven could induce me to grasp a crozier on such terms.' 
And he rightly observes, in writing to a private friend about 
this time, that * the apparent advantages of it (the Episcopate) 
are few and transitory, while the labours and dangers of it 

* It is curious to learn that during the imprisonment of Pius VII. by 
Napoleon (1809-18 14), Monsignor (afterwards Cardinal) Quarantotti, 
who had the chief direction of ecclesiastical affairs during the Pope's 
absence, had granted a veto to the English Government on the appoint- 
ment of Roman Catholic bishops in Ireland. But the Act was afterwards 
annulled by the Pope on the remonstrances of the bishops in Ireland. 
Probably Quarantotti, during the oppression of the Pope by Napoleon, 
thought it well to make friends in any way he could with Napoleon's 
bitterest enemies. 

8 Council of Trent 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 17 

are great and permanent.' Yet we must not acquit him of 
palpable affectation, when, having been informed that the 
Episcopal soutane and cope were being made for him, he 
exclaimed : * Would that it were my shroud they were 
preparing I ' 

After his consecration he at once began to gird himself to 
the performance of the task which lay before him. It was no 
easy nor light one : for during a century previous it had been 
the custom to appoint only very aged men to bishoprics, and 
these, through infirmity or inactivity, had permitted a great re- 
laxation of discipline. A gradual secularity of life and habits 
among the clergy had become the rule, very similar to that 
which obtained in the Anglican Church some half century ago. 
Many of the parish priests carried on farming as a speculation, 
and (we are told) made money by it 'Hunting priests' 
were as common in Kildare as * hunting parsons ' in Hert- 
fordshire or the Midlands. At the frequent race meetings 
the clergy were usually to be seen. Their solemn black 
cloth and long clerical boots, by comparison with the scarlet 
coats and top-boots of the county squires, pointed painfully 
the contrast between their profession and their practice. 
Many of the priests did not, however, wear their ecclesiastical 
dress at all. It had fallen into disuse, probably as a tradition 
of the severe period of the penal laws. Almost all the Roman 
clergy, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, used to 
wear brown ; and when one bolder than the rest ventured to 
appear in a black coat, he was blamed for * needlessly exposing 
the clergy to insult and persecution.' No splendid ceremonial 
was attempted in their chapels.* The vestments and altar- 
cloths were, on the contrary, not unfrequently ragged and 
untidy ; and the Bishop, after his injunctions for the amending 
of the evil had been apathetically disregarded, was reduced 
in some instances to the necessity of tearing the chasuble into 
ribbons or otherwise destroying it with his own hands. On 
one occasion he found the chalice in use to be cracked^ so as 
to allow the sacred Element to ooze away. He called for a 
hammer, and one not being at hand, he took up a paving- 
stone, and with it crushed the chalice at a blow. Nor was 
this parsimony about the appointments of the Church a con- 
sequence of mere poverty. There were three parishes in the 
diocese of the annual value of 500/., fourteen where it was 

^ The author is responsible for the story that at the first attempt to 
* get up Benediction * at Oscott, they could procure no better incense 
than a little resin which the sacristan scraped out of some broken knife- 
handles in the kitchen ! 


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1 8 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

over 200/., and some few where it approached 300/. The 
Established Church could probably not have exceeded this, 
if indeed it could have equalled it. The abuses incident to 
the holding of * Stations ' at the houses of farmers in the 
country parishes, after which, as we gather, the priest had not 
seldom been tempted into convivialities inconsistent with his 
office and duties, he at once repressed. He prohibited his 
clergy altogether from appearing at places of public amuse- 
ment or resort. The 'secret statutes,' written in Latin, of 
the diocese, which he drew up, order : * Let them not be 
present at public entertainments of the laity, unless some 
work of charity or some function of moment may require it.' 
Hunting and horse-racing were also prohibited : though at a 
later period, when Dr. Doyle's reforming zeal had presumably 
somewhat cooled, this rule was relaxed so far as that each 
priest was permitted to attend a race in his own parish, * with 
a view to the preservation of order among such of his flock as 
were present : ' a salvA conscientid which, one must hope, was 
satisfactory to both sides. 

He was not content with enforcing by regulations external 
decency of life among the clergy ; he strove also to promote a 
high tone of personal piety and earnest sanctity among them, 
by the revival of spiritual Retreats and of periodical * Con- 
ferences ' in the diocese. He demanded, we are told, from 
every priest * individual attention to, and rigorous fulfilment 
of, all the various and difficult, and often painful offices of 
their duty.* He desired that * every pastor should be a slave 
to his vocation.' He redistributed parishes for the sake of 
the better administration of them. The ecclesiastical fees he 
regulated by a fixed table. He laid down what is undoubtedly 
the true theory oifees by forbidding, under pain of suspension, 
*any clergyman from withholding his ministry from any per- 
son, rich or poor, on account of dues or emoluments ; so that 
the office of the priest must first be discharged, and then the 
individual gives what is prescribed by usage or by the letter 
of the statute.' Customs of collecting dues which caused 
scandal he prohibited. He encouraged the formation of re- 
ligious confraternities, and recommended his people to join 
them. In every parish throughout his diocese he established 
a lending library, * stocked with books of religious and moral 
instruction exclusively,' which were given out to the poor 
gratis ; to others at a charge of one penny a week. Libraries 
would, of course, be of little service if the ability to read was 
not general among the people ; and accordingly he took every 
means in his power to promote the establishment of schools 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 19 

for the poor. The Roman Church, however, has never been 
conspicuous in Ireland (or anywhere else) for its efforts to this 
end ; but Bishop Doyle adopted at first what must be called, 
for a Roman Catholic prelate, a liberal policy towards mixed 
schools under Protestant management, and permitted his 
flock under certain conditions to send their children to such 

New and more stringent Lenten regulations were issued. 
In 1820 he held a visitation of his diocese, which revealed 
vast arrears of episcopal duty to be made up, and then began 
a round of Confirmations. The number of persons confirmed 
almost exceeds belief. We extract one account ; — 

' One of the first parishes in which Dr. Doyle had decided upon 
holding Confirmation was Portarlington, then containing a population 
of 9,000 Catholics. For nearly twenty years there had been no 
Confirmation administered here. Upon arriving at the old chapel on 
the appointed day, Dr. Doyle found a large concourse of people 
assembled outside, while within its walls there was not room for a 
pin to drop. The parish priest had been long blind and infirm, and 
did not appeiu- ; the curate, therefore, took his place. " Where are 
the children?" said Dr. Doyle. "Good God! can these persons, 
stand in need of confirmation % " The priest's ^affirmative brought a 
tear into the bishop's eye. He surveyed the surging sea of heads 
around him, white as the foam of the ocean. There were few 
present imder sixty years of age, and some had reached fourscore^ 
The expression of devotion in the countenances of the poor people 
severely tested our prelate's sensibility. He knew that their exclu- 
sion from the light of the Holy Ghost had not been through their 
own fault, and he struggled hard to suppress his emotion. 

* " Some of these old people can hardly know their Catechism," 
he said. " And I fear I would not be justified in confirming them."^ 
" My lord," repHed the curate, " you must only take for granted, on 
my assurance, that their faith is sound. I am well acquainted with 
their religious sentiments." Dr. Doyle turned to an old woman, not 
less than eighty, and asked her if she knew the Apostles' Creed and 
Salve Rigina, She replied in the affirmative, and repeated them with 
such accuracy and devotion that the bishop seemed quite pleased^ 
and forthwith prepared for a general administration of the Sacrament. 
One thousand people were confirmed that day. Dr. Doyle at the 
close preached a touching exhortation, and announced that next 
month he would hold a visitation at Emo in the same parish. So 
great were the numbers in attendance, that no church could hold 
them. Lord Portarlington threw open Emo Park for the occasion, 
and beneath a monster marquee Dr. Doyle administered Confirmation 
on that day to thirteen hundred persons. 

* From the then Curate of Portarlington we gathered these details. 
The scene may be regarded as a sample of what took place in other, 
parts of the diocese. Dr. Doyle's labours continued unceasing. Ha 


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20 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

had to pull up an overwhelming accumulation of neglected duty, and 
he laboured more in a few years than half a dozen prelates of ordinary 
. zeal could accomplish in a lifetime. *•' James," he said, afterwards, 
to the Rev. Mr. Delaney, **you know not what I suffered. My 
brain was bursting with the myriad dictates of duty which crowded 
into it "'(p. 127). 

Not less impressive for a different reason was the recom- 
mencement, almost the re-creation, of the system of Spiritual 
Retreats for the clergy, which we have referred to above. It 
had been in disuse certainly ever since the Reformation, until 
Bishop Doyle took it up as a powerful engine for good.^ A 
thousand priests, we are told, and nearly every Roman bishop 
in Ireland, assembled at Carlow, by his invitation, in July, 
1820. He conducted the retreat unaided, and preached three 
times each day for a week. Many a missioner amongst our- 
;?selves does, of course, as much or more in our day ; but it 
was much less usual at that time, or rather it was entirely 
unprecedented, for a preacher to make so great an effort ; and 
it created a correspondingly deep impression. *We never 
Tieard anything to equal them (the sermons),' says a witness, 
** before or since * . . We thought he was inspired. I saw the 
venerable Archbishop Troy weep like a child, and I'aise his 
hands in thanksgiving.' Another account we may as well 
. quote : — 

* Nearly forty years have elapsed/ observes another priest, * but my 
recollection of all that Dr. Doyle said and did upon that occasion is 
fresh and vivid. He laboured like a giant, and with the zeal of an 
apostle. There he stood like some commanding archangel, raising 
and depressing the thousand hearts which hung fondly on his words. 
I can never forget that tall, majestic figure pointing the way to 
heaven with an arm which seemed as though it could have wielded 
thunderbolts, nor the lofty serenity of countenance, so eloquent of 
reproach one minute and so radiant of hope the next. It seemed as 
4f by an act of his will a torrent of grace miraculously descended from 
heaven, and, by the same mediating agency, was dispensed around. 
It was a glorious spectacle in its aspect and results. The fruit was 

..of no ephemeral growth or continuance, but celestially enduring. To 
.ihis day I profit by a recollection of that salutary retreat. 

* A trifling accident occurred in one of Dr. Doyle's most impas- 
^5ioned appeals, which, as it illustrates the violent zeal which moved 
him, may perhaps be recorded here. He preached from the altar, 
;ftnd in expatiating upon the crime of sacerdotal levity, he pointed to 
ithe tabernacle with tears in his eyes and an expression of the most 

* We cannot help mentioning as a parallel, though of course on a 
emaller scale. Bishop Wilberforce's delivery of his celebrated * Ordination 
Addresses ' at Cuddesdon in 1 855-1 859. 

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i882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 21 

poignant reproach. " The Lamb that is outraged," he exclaimed, 
" reposes meekly here ; " and forgetting that he stood so near the 
tabernacle, the bishop flung back his arm to indicate the spot, with a 
force that crushed in the gilded door of the sanctum. 

' " For the ten days that the retreat lasted," observes Dean 
O'Connell, ** Dr. Doyle knew no rest. His soul was on fire in the 
sacred cause. He was determined to reform widely. His falcon eye 
sparkled with zeal. The powers of his intellect were applied to the 
good work with telling efiect. At the close of one of his most im- 
passioned exhortations, he knelt down on a prie-dieu immediately 
before me. The vigorous workings of his mind and the intense ear- 
nestness of purpose within affected even the outward man. Big 
drops of perspiration stood upon his neck, and his rochet was almost 
saturated " ' (p. 129). 

In some respects Dr. Doyle's rule over his clergy savoured 
of despotism. He once publicly reprimanded, in presence of 
his flock, a priest (of S. Malins) who came out to say mass 
with spurs on his boots. He entirely prohibited priests from 
bequeathing to friends or relatives any property which they 
might have acquired by their office. His regulation was that 
all property procured by the altar should finally go to 
ecclesiastical or charitable purposes : an excellent principle 
indeed, but hardly, one would suppose, a fit subject to be 
regulated by a positive rule, which would admit of numberless 
evasions. The rule shows the strictness of the diocesan 

The penalty he has been known to inflict for a disregard 
of this principle, was the forbidding of the ' month's memory " 
for the offender.* 

Another abuse was the common habit of parish priests 
devoting themselves to farming ; and this he strictly forbade, 
limiting them to, at the outside, fourteen acres of land. 

We have mentioned more than once above the 'secret 
statutes ' of the diocese. These were drawn up in Latin, and. 
were collected into a small volume, which it was incumbent, 
on every parish priest to possess. Whenever a priest fell into 

^ There seems, however, to have been some restriction resembling- 
this, though not exactly identical with it, anciently (that is, in the sixth 
and seventh centuries, A.D.), in the French and Spanish Church, and 
also in that of the Province of Carthage. But see Bingham^ book v. 
chap, iv., sect. 8, 9, et seq, 

^ This was a custom by which the death of a clergyman was notified 
in all the churches of the rural deanery, or of the diocese — we are not 
assured which — and prayer made for him. It is worth consideration 
whether there might not be some unobjectionable form in which a similar 
custom might be introduced among ourselves. It would do much to 
promote unity of feeling among scattered parishes. 

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22 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

any dangerous illness, it was directed that the rural dean 
should visit him and render him spiritual aid. * He shall 
inquire whether the sick man has made his will as commanded, 
and he shall use the greatest diligence lest the registry of 
baptisms and marriages, or the holy vessels, vestments, 
coverings or ornaments of the altar, whether they belong to 
the parish or the priest, should fall into the hands of any lay- 
man. He shall put them into a safe place, and carry home 
along with him the copy of tJtese statutes' The book was, 
therefore, extremely scarce ; and it is said that * a noted 
Evangelical * offered seven guineas for a copy at the sale of a 
priest's effects, and failed to obtain it even at that price. 

After the Bishop's own death, a MS. book, we are told, 
fell into the hands of his successor, in which were noted, for 
his guidance, the names of families, no member of which, he 
ruled, * should be at any time ordained priest/ We have, in 
this sketch of Dr. Doyle as bishop and diocesan administrator, 
anticipated the current of events. 

We must now go back to 1801, and carry our narrative 
down from that point, where we left it before this digression. 

The Act of Union had been passed in that year, and 
carried partly by the assistance of the Roman Catholic 
party. It passed as it was, but by a single vote ; and the 
opposition of the popular leaders would unquestionably have 
secured its defeat. Their support was obtained, there is little 
doubt, by the promise of Pitt that the Union should be 
followed by a total and unqualified religious emancipation, 
and by some alteration of the system of tithes. The great 
Minister found, however, that to fulfil this pledge was beyond 
-even his power, great though his influence was. A large and 
comprehensive scheme was before the Cabinet ; but the plan 
was divulged before it was mature to the King, and he at 
once declared himself against it. ' I count any man my 
personal enemy,* he said to Dundas, ' who proposes any such 
measure.* Pitf s rejoinder was the statement of his entire 
plan to the King, strongly urging that 'the political circum- 
stances under which the exclusive laws originated are no 
longer applicable to the present state of things.' The King, 
however, was obdurate ; and was perhaps secretly not 
displeased to get rid of a Minister whose influence had long 
overshadowed the throne. Pitt accordingly tendered his 
resignation in February, 1801. 

An era of repression folloAved in Ireland. The Roman 
Catholics, disappointed and discouraged, sank for a time into 
supineness. A * Catholic Committee,' formed after a while to 

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i882, Jreland before and after Emancipation^ 23 

fcdvocattfe their claims, was dissolved by proclamation, and 
Lord Fingal, with other delegates, was put under arrest A 
similar effort later on, under a new and vigorous leader, 
Daniel O'Connell, to form a * Catholic Board,' was dealt with 
in the same way.- Their prospects were so unpromising that 
the veteran orator, Henry Grattan, several times refused to 
move in the cause. At length, in 1820, he came to London to 
present a petition for Emancipation, and , died while, there. 
But it seemed as if the death of their leader, and the public 
honours which were paid to him (he was buried in Westminster 
Abbey), had removed some of the burden of weariness and 
despair from their hearts, In the following year bills were 
brought forward by Mr. Plunket for Roman Catholic relief, 
which proposed, inter alia, to concede to the English Govern- 
ment a veto on the appointment of (Roman) Bishops in 
Ireland ; and to this the Pope was, it is evident, willing to 
jhave agreed. But the Bill, though it passed the House of 
Commons by 216 to 197, was thrown out by the Lords. 

In the agitation which ran through the Roman clergy in 
Ireland, the public meetings, the petitions to Parliament, and 
the communications with prominent members of the House 
of Commons, Dr. Doyle for the first time came prominently 
to the front in politics, in Avhich he afterwards made so 
distinguished a name. He was, it appears, the medium of 
communication between the Roman Catholic prelacy and 
their representatives in Parliament, and made suggestions, 
several of which were adopted. Opinions were, however, 
greatly divided upon the concessions proposed to be made, 
On the one hand, Protestants considered the proposal to 
take the shackles off the Roman Catholic religion fraught 
with danger to the Constitution, and fiercely opposed it ; on 
the other, many Roman Catholics were reluctant to accept 
.the oath of Supremacy, even as modified, or to permit the 
exercise of a Government veto on the appointment of 
Bishops, even as the price of emancipation. The assemblies 
.of the clergy came to varying conclusions in different 
dioceses ; and it is amusing to note that Dr. Doyle, though 
the leader of the * veto * party, could not carry his own clergy 
with him. They passed a civil colourless resolution, in 
which the question at issue was quietly ignored. The Bill, as 
we have said, failed ; and the subject of the veto dropped 
out of sight, never to be resumed. Dr. Doyle, however, lost 
no opportunity to prove himself not only a devoted prelate, 
but a loyal and well-affected citizen. A powerful pastoral 
address on the Ribbon conspiracy, which he issued in 1822, 

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24 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

produced a remarkable effect* Three hundred thousand 
copies of it were printed and distributed at the expense of 
the Government ; and Daniel 0*Connell, than whom there 
could be no better judge, bore public testimony, in a speech 
to the Catholic Association in 1824, that it * spoke with such 
persuasive eloquence and sincerity of intention, and appealed 
so successfully, through the force of feeling and truth, to the 
reason, prejudices, and passions of the peasantry, that it did 
more to induce patience and tranquillity amongst them than 
twenty Insurrection Acts in full operation. No man could 
tell where the disturbance would have ended had not the 
spring of insurrection been stemmed at its source.* And we 
take the following quotation from another pastoral address of 
Bishop Doyle delivered shortly before. It is to be feared 
that the pastorals of too many Roman Bishops speak in a very 
different tone now. 

'Where is the landlord amongst you who is an oppressor? 
Where is the employer who is not humane ? Where have you been 
sick, and they have not relieved you ? Where have you been naked 
and they have not covered you ? Where have you been hungry and 
they have not fed you ? Where have you been houseless and they 
have not sheltered you ? And if you could point out exceptions, are 
they not rare as the stars that fall from heaven ? ' (p. 148). 

He now came forward on a somewhat different stage, that 
of theological controversy. Dr. Magee, the Archbishop of 
Dublin, delivered, in 1822, a ' charge' to his clergy, somewhat 
unduly controversial, and in which he threw down the 
gauntlet, with what certainly seems to us very unnecessary 
chivalry, to Roman Catholics on the one side, and Dissenters 
on the other ; employing tolerably strong language of both. 
He was speedily replied to by Dr. Doyle * in a letter which, 
for condensed vigour of style, powerful grouping of facts or 
quasi-facts, and dexterous employment of all the weapons of 
irony, sarcasm, and denunciation, is probably as effective a 
piece of controversial writing as will easily be found. The 
Archbishop had taken up the mere Protestant ground of 
opposition to Rome : which, if it be logically tenable;^ 
is, at all events, very difficult successfully to defend. No 
argument admits of being put more effectively by a dexterous 
polemic than the Roman. Few men knew better how to state 
his facts ore rotundoy to marshal his arguments and to over- 
whelm his opponent by a dexterous /^/iV/i? principiiy than Dr. 

^ He invariably employed the signature of J. K. L. on these occasions, 
i.e. James Kildare and Leighlin, 

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1882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 25 

Doyle. We will not express any opinion on Lord Wellesley's 
(the then Viceroy) declaration that 'Magee manifestly got 
the worst of it' But it was a pretty quarrel indeed ; and 
high was the interest occasioned by this ' clash of crosiers,' in 
which the high rank of one disputant, and the brilliant 
ability and considerable learning of the other, drew the 
attention of the whole country. We must find room for one 
of Dr. Doyle's characteristic objurgations : 

*J. K. L. regretted to hear from such high authority as Dr. 
Magee that at the present day those whom your grace considers 
" the National Clergy are in a state little short of persecution." I 
know the nature of persecution so well that I shudder at the thought 
of its being revived in this country against any set of men, and more 
especially against the Clergy of the Established Church, many of 
whom, in my opinion, deserve even the praises bestowed upon them 
all by your Grace ; but hitherto, I must confess, I considered them, 
in a temporal point of view, the most happy, if not the only happy 
class of persons in Ireland; — their dignitaries all in splendour, 
amassing wealth almost beyond calcuktion, the parochial cleigy 
enjoying sinecures, that otium cum dignitate which the Roman philo- 
sopher preferred to the dignity of a consul, or even to the power and 
pnvileges of a dictator. But how much we are deceived, and how 
true it is that no man lives contented with his lot 1 ' (vol. L p. 211). 

His pen was never idle for long together ; and the next 
year (1823) saw another lengthy publication, entitled *A 
Vindication of the Religious and Civil Principles of the Irish 
Catholics, in a letter addressed to the Marquis Wellesley, by 
J. K. L.,' which produced a powerful effect in encouraging the 
Roman Catholics, depressed though they were with so many 
failures in their endeavours to obtain religious emancipation, 
and in rekindling the agitation, which, in a few more years, 
was at length crowned with success. The. Bishop removed 
about this time from Carlow itself to Old Derrig, a short 
distance into the country. The house, we are told, 

* was a large, wild, and neglected, though picturesque place, scantily 
furnished, except with old books, especially Latin. His visitors 
wanted nothing, because (as went his apology for this) S. Paul 
said that Bishops should be hospitable. His own usual mode 
of living was as simple as possible; his little S. Bridget's Chapel 
in the garden was a room about twelve feet long, and about ten in 
breadth, with plain whitewashed walls, and there he daily said 
mass, and there I have seen tears roll abundantly from his eyes after 
the consecration in the Holy Sacrifice. But, oh ! our evening con- 
versations with a chosen few — the wonderful versatility of thought 
and language — the sudden and yet connected transitions from divine 
subjects to ihe most amusing trifles ! We would often have, in half- 

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26 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

an-hour, quotations from Job, David, Augustine, Byron, Moore, 
Shakespeare, and Swift — in a word, hours would seem moments in 
his company ' (i. p. 303). 

Much is said by his biographer of his self-denying way of 
life ; and in 1824, when there was a potato famine in Ireland, 
and great distress in consequence among the poor, the 
Bishop's efforts were taxed to the utmost to afford relief to 
the starving peasantry. Some remarkable details are given 
of this : — 

' On this trying occasion Dr. Doyle gave to these poor not only 
what he had received from public munificence, and what he had pro- 
cured from private personal entreaty — ^laboriously, unceasingly, 
imploringly exerted — but he also bestowed on them the very last 
shilling of his official income. " It so happened at this time that his 
clothes (contrary to his usual habit) were painfully shabby, and his 
hat miserably worn. All those acquainted with his character were 
well aware that, so far from purchasing new clothes, he would not 
even wear them in this time of universal famine and starvation. It 
was by his own singular personal efforts that 2,000 persons were fed 
every day at the College, at the Convent, and at the public soup- 
kitchen. „ During this time his brother, the Rev. Peter Doyle, came 
to see him, and observing the dress and the general appearance of 
the Bishop, was astonished to see his clothes so shabby, and he 
therefore begged to present him with 25/. to get a new outfit When 
his brother had taken leave, the Bishop laughingly said, " Poor Peter 
is ashamed of me, and has given me 25/. (as he said) to keep the life 
in me by warm clothing ; but he has done more than he fancied, as 
I shall, of course, give it to my poor on this day, and keep the life in 
hundreds of persons for many years yet to come. Whatever I am," 
he continued, " I am sure I am not the worse for having an old coat 
and an old hat." 

• • • • • • • 

' Immediately after this visit of his brother, he came to the 
College one morning to breakfast, and having met the President and 
Professors, said " Gentlemen, you are each to give me five guineas 
for my poor. I myself shall sell, on this week, some silver tankards 
which I have received as presents. I shall dispose also of my gold 
watch, and I have already made arrangements to sell, to the Bishop 
of another diocese, some chalices which we do not want." "Oh 1 my 
Lord," said Dr. Fitzgerald, "surely you do not mean to sell the 
chalices'^ " Sir," he replied, " be assured I will sell them, and all I 
have in the world beside, in the present necessity. Surely, you 
would not have me to preserve the mere metal in which Our Lord 
temporarily resides in His Sacramental form, and let perish the living 
tabernacle, the faithful hearts of my own poor, suffering people, 
where He and the Holy Ghost permanently, cherishingly dwell, as 
their own dearly loved habitation " ' (i. p. 319). 

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1882- Ireland before and after Emancipaitan. 27 

The Bishop had probably in mind the similar words of 
S. Ambrose, 

Another incident which marked this year was Dr. Doyle's 
letter on the reunion of the Churches (of England and of 
Rome), which he thought * would be the best mode of pacify* 
ing Ireland, and of consolidating the interests of the Empire/ 
This letter was addressed to Mr. Robinson (afterwards Earl 
of Ripon), who was at that time Chancellor of the Exchequer, 
and who had said, during a debate in the House of Commons, 
that 'he was anxious to see the Protestant and Catholic 
Churches re-united.' In this letter, the Bishop declares that 
*the points of agreement between the Churches were 
numerous, those on which the parties hesitated few, and 
apparently not the most important' After suggesting that 
if * Protestant and Catholic divines of learning and a con- 
ciliatory character ' were summoned by the Crown to ascertain 
the points of agreement and difference between the Churches, 
and * the result of their conferences were made the basis of a 
project to be treated on between the heads of the Church of 
Rome and of England, the result might be more favourable 
than at present would be anticipated.' 

After drawing out a list of points to be discussed, he 
continued that the existing diversity of opinion arose in some 
cases from certain forms of words which admitted of satisfac- 
tory explanation, or from the ignorance or misconceptions 
which ancient prejudice and ill-will produce and strengthen. 

The proposal, as coming from a Bishop of the Romano* 
Irish hierarchy, was a remarkable one. It attracted much 
attention from both sides, though some pronounced it 'a 
visionary plan : ' and it is remarkable and significant that so 
keen a thinker and Catholic-minded a man as Alexander 
Knox declared it impracticable except by *a complete 
subjugation ' of the Church of England to that of Rome. 

There could not be the least hesitation at the present day 
in assenting to this opinion. Circumstances have completely 
altered, and the relations between the Roman and Anglican 
Communions are far from being what they were even in 
Bishop Doyle's day. At that time, for anything we can see, 
a reunion may have been feasible ; or at all events within the 
limits of possibility. Now the promulgation of new and un- 
Catholic dogmas as de fide has put an impassable barrier 
between them ; impassable, that is to say, as long as England 
remains apostolical, and Rome ultramontane, in doctrine. 
Even if it were otherwise, the tone and temper of that 
* insolent and aggressive faction* which now has the pre- 

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28 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

dominance throughout the Roman communion, would render 
any accommodation equally impossible. The examination of 
Bishop Doyle's well-meant and large-hearted endeavour, 
therefore, can only be of antiquarian interest. But it is 
instructive nevertheless to note the absence of that super- 
cilious affectation of superiority with which we are so familiar 
in Roman disputants in our day ; and his frank allowance of 
the Apostolic lineage and spiritual life of the rival communion. 
Even while reprobating and opposing her establishment in 
Ireland, he could say, 'we respect the Church of England 
on account of '* the rock from which she has been hewn, and 
the pit from which she has been digged ; " we prize her 
Liturgy as only less perfect than that from which it has been 
principally extracted ; we admire her translation of the Bible, 
with all its imperfections, as a noble work ; we venerate her 
hierarchy as an image of the truth' {Vindication^ p. 30). 
These are the words of a candid and just opponent : the 
reader will find nothing like them in the writings of contro- 
versialists of our own day. The truth is, that Bishop Doyle 
had so clear and unhesitating a Catholicity, that he could 
afford to be just to opponents ; and so candid and serene an 
intellect, that he desired to be so. His orthodoxy was of 
that peculiarly uncommon and valuable kind, which enables 
a man to discover and to state the underlying principle of a 
theological truth, and, so discovered, to state it in such a 
manner that it shall almost be self-evident, and shall disarm 
the prejudices of shallower thinkers. He recalls the theolo- 
gians of earlier ages ; and there is but little in his writings of 
the narrow, ill-instructed, and hysterical school of writers who 
seem to represent the Roman Church of this decade. We 
will give a few examples of Bishop Doyle's views on matters 
of doctrine. Thus, respecting Holy Scripture, he says : 

' The Scriptures alone have never saved any one ; they are in- 
capable of giving salvation ; it is not their object, it is not the end for 
which they were written. They hold a dignified place amongst the 
means of the institution which Christ formed for the purpose of saving 
his elect ; but though they never had been written, this end would 
have been attained, and all who were pre-ordained to eternal life 
would have been gathered to the Church, and fed with the bread of 
life. The Scriptures were given for the most useful ends, as we 
shall see presently; but it is obvious to all, that they were not written 
as a regular code of law, still less were they intended to supersede 
the priesthood. They consist of history, poetry, moral and mystical 
treatises, as well as of the ordinances prescribed to the Jewish 
people; they were \^Titten generally for some special purpose in 
different languages, in various countries, and at periods far removed 

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1 882. Ireland before and after Efnancipation. 29 

from each other ; and hence, though the entire collection be useful 
to instruct, reprove, and direct us in the pursuit of happiness, yet if 
it be looked to as the means whereby mankind may be brought to 
the knowledge of the truth, and formed to the Christian discipline, it 
will be found totally inadequate to such a purpose. 

'In the hands of the Ministry which Christ, like Moses, so 
clearly established, the Scriptures have been, and are, most useful. 
Without them, it would require more than the ordinary providence 
of God to preserve the deposit of faith whole and entire ' {Letter 
vii. p. 164). 

Again, with regard to tradition : — 

* The truth is, that tradition is part and parcel of Divine revela- 
tion, or rather revelation once consisted of tradition exclusively, a 
portion of which was afterwards recorded in writing ' {Letter vii. 
p. 188). 

There is a good deal of special pleading in the sections on 
the invocation of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Saints ; 
and the fact is ignored that it is not the theoretical basis of 
the doctrine, but the proved dangers of it in practice, which 
his opponents object to ; so that it verges upon the disin- 
genuous to say that the belief of the Catholic on this subject, 
which the Protestant swears to be idolatrous, is substantially 
the same as his own (p. 272). There is the same (we fear we 
must call it) want of candour running through Bishop Doyle's 
replies to the House of Lords on the Same subject, when he 
was summoned to give evidence before them in 1825. 

In 1827 the Prime Minister, Lord Liverpool, died. During 
the fifteen years he had been at the head of the Government, 
his strongly adverse opinion had prevented any steps being 
taken for the emancipation of Roman Catholics. Now their 
hopes began to revive, and they were still further increased 
by the accession to office of Mr. Canning, who was believed 
to entertain opinions favourable to their claims. His adminis- 
tration, however, lasted but a few months ; and, after the ad 
inteHm ministry of Viscount Goderich, the conduct of affairs 
was entrusted to a Tory Ministry, headed by the Duke of 
Wellington as Prime Minister. It was not perhaps from that 
side of the House that Dr. Doyle would have looked for the 
concession of his claims ; but the Tories being in power at 
this time when the question drew to a head, it fell practically 
to them to deal with it. In fact, the requests of the Irish 
Roman Catholics had assumed well-nigh the form of de- 
mands. Under the leadership of O'Connell public mass 
meetings were held in all parts of the country to consider the 

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30 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

question. That astute strategist saw that the time was come 
to bring the cause to a decision. 

In the June of 1828 a vacancy occurred in the representa- 
tion of the County of Clare, and O'Connell, although, as a 
Roman Catholic, ineligible to sit in Parliament, was returned 
by a large majority over Mr. Fitzgerald. The demonstration 
was a significant, and, as it proved, a successful one. The 
excitement of the Irish population rose to a dangerous pitch, 
and it became clear that this claim must be conceded, or civil 
war would be the alternative. 

At this conjuncture Bishop Doyle again threw himself 
into the fray. Seldom, probably, has any plea been penned 
more calculated by the combined effect of cogent constitu- 
tional argument, moderation of tone flavoured with such 
assurance of success as comes of conscious force, to determine 
the mind of a statesman, than Dr. Doyle's letter to the Pre- 
mier, the Duke of Wellington, in June, 1828. His cause 
must have been very obviously in the ascendant, however, 
before he could venture to remind the Premier that ' Fear is 
the beginning of wisdom, and though the Irish were not to be 
feared, the state of England and of her foreign relations may 
produce a salutary dread even in your mind ; and out of that 
fear may spring those wise and healing measures which it is 
our most anxious desire you should adopt.' He addresses 
the Duke as a man * who is supposed by many to have entered 
fully into the views of those who have doomed the Catholics 
to perpetual exclusion.' But, he continues, in a strain of 
courteous yet scarcely veiled sarcasm : — 

' There are others who think that your Grace, like all the states- 
men who have gone before you, would be regulated in your policy 
more by necessity than by preconceived opinions ; and that, whilst 
in compliance perhaps with your own sense of duty, or if not, with 
the wishes of those on whose support you depend, you would wil- 
lingly postpone the Catholic question to an indefinite period ; yet that 
you are disposed to watch the course of events, and even to enter 
into an alliance with your Catholic countrymen, should your foreign 
allies cease to be your friends ' (vol. ii. p. 69). 

One great argument against putting the Roman Catholics 
on the same footing as other Irishmen was the apprehension 
that the Pope would come to exercise an undue influence in 
Ireland. Bishop Doyle lived before the days of Ultramon- 
tanism, and the considerable recrudescence of Papal influence 
to which that movement, so carefully fostered by Pius IX., 
has ministered. He did not rf^j//r any considerable extension 
of the Pope's activity in matters of local concern. * Let us 

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i882, Ireland before and after Emancipation. 31 

leave Rome undisturbed/ he wrote in 1 823. * Let us not send 
there the dissensions of our own family ; let us have charity 
and wisdom enough to settle them ourselves.' But neither 
did he believe in such undue influence being possible; the 
wish perhaps being father to the thought in his mind. 

Whether it were the result of Dr. Doyle's letter, or 
whether the result of the Clare election, which, as we have 
already noticed, was in June, 1828, it appears that the mind 
of the Duke of Wellington was reluctantly made up to con- 
cede the Emancipation as a means of avoiding still greater 
evil, as he unquestionably regarded it. And it was time. 
The Bishop himself, in a letter written at this period, speaks 
sadly as to * the danger of a civil war, in which every being in 
the country should take a part, and which might not be quelled 
in two years, nor until the whole kingdom would be a desert.' 
In December, 1828, the Duke wrote to the (Roman) Arch- 
bishop Curtis of Armagh, assuring him that he was ' sincerely 
anxious to witness the settlement of the Catholic question ;' 
and in 1829 the Emancipation Act was carried through the 
legislature by lai^e majorities. This healing measure, though 
its beneficial effects became apparent as time went on, was 
not sufficient at once to calm the mind of the peasantry, and 
to remove immediately the evils which a long continuance of 
disquiet had caused. Secret associations and agrarian out- 
rages remained to some extent still prevalent ; and we find 
in Dr. Doyle's comments at that time remarkable instances 
of these apparently chronic evils in the state of society in 
Ireland. He observes in a pastoral address to the Deanery 
of Maryborough, in November, 1829: — 

* A secret association existed, drawn together for purposes scarcely 
known to those who composed it, and having no specific object that 
he could ascertain, ,unless to prevent the reduction of wages and the 
ejection of tenants from their holdings. It consisted of considerable 
numbers, and included, besides the ignorant and undesigning, every 
person heretofore noted in his neighbourhood for corrupt, immoral, 
and general depravity of character. Catholics and Protestants were 
united in it " They assemble at night in unfrequented places to 
deliberate and issue and receive orders." The plunder of arms was 
a favourite object ; and in carrying it into effect they guarded against 
detection by deputing individuals unknown to those whose houses 
or property were destined for attack' (ii. p. i68). 

And the excellent advice and appeal with which the letter 
concludes are worth perusal, particularly at this time : — 

* The bishop begged of his hearers not to infer that the owners of 
land were not justified in the ejection of a tenant who had run into 

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32 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

arrears, or who neglected to cultivate his land. If landlords were 
not entitled, in justice to themselves and their families, to eject such 
tenants and let the land to others more industrious and deserving, 
all rights of property would have ceased ; goods would become com- 
mon to all people, and theft and injustice would cease to be forbidden 
by the laws of God and man ... So I say to you, brethren, bear 
the burdens of one another, be generous to your employers that your 
employers may be generous to you. Be patient whilst they are suf- 
fering, and when they are eased or affluent you will be sharers with 
them in whatever they possess. Protect their property as if it were 
your own. Be their safeguard and defence, and not the disturbers of 
their peace and the terrors of their nightly repose. Bear their present 
burdens with them, that hereafter they may lighten yours ' (ii. p. 170). 

Dr. Doyle was no doubt following the traditional policy 
of discouragement to secret societies on the part of the 
Roman bishops in Ireland, from which, as the letter of 
Archbishop Croke has lately shown, they seldom depart 
very far. But he is entitled to the high praise of having 
stood up for it at some danger of unpopularity with his flock, 
and enforced it with a singular and winning persuasiveness. 
He had himself sprung from the peasantry. He was at one 
with them in sentiment and feeling. * You all know that I 
am one having the same interests and the same feelings as 
yourselves,' he says ; and they trusted him consequently v/ith 
an unbounded and touching confidence. There are probably 
few acts of any public man at that troubled time of which it 
can be said that while, on the one hand, he received the 
cordial and unanimous thanks of the English press, on the 
other, the rapid and salutary effect of it was such, that * the 
disturbances ceased, and the illegal associations were dis- 
solved.' * 

The Repeal agitation was revived by O'Connell, much to 
Dr. Doyle's regret. While as yet a crisis was averted, the 
Government tried what a policy of conciliation would do to- 
wards peace, and made use of the Bishop's good offices for 
that purpose. A patent of precedency ^ at the Bar was pre- 
sented to O'Connell by the hands of Dr. Doyle, who was his 
friend, in order to show their willingness to come to terms ; 
and we learn from his own statement, which there seems no 

^ There were, however, limits, as it was natural there should be, to 
the bishop's capability of acting as a pacificator among the peasantry. 
* I am tired, my lord,' he writes in one place to Lord Darnley, * of appeal- 
ing to the religious feelings of men who either have no employment, or 
labour during six days for five shillings/ Truly a Sisyphean task ! 

* Surely this must be what is meant by Dr. Fitzgerald. But he writes 
it ^ Presidency^ (ii. p. 334). 

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1 882. Irelafid before and after Emancipation. 33 

reason to doubt, that the Attorney-Generalship was offered to 
him. But the offer came too late. The arch-agitator became, 
after a short period of moderation, more violent than ever 
against foes and friends alike. The agitation against tithes, 
upon which the Bishop and the * Liberator ' were agreed, 
broke out also with renewed fury. These two sources of 
agitation combined raised the disorder to such a height that 
restraint, at any cost, became imperatively necessary. The 
tithe became almost valueless, because it could not be coU 
lected, owing to the determined resistance of the people. The 
clergy of the Church of Ireland were reduced to such distress 
that a grant of 1,000,000/. was voted by the Legislature for 
their relief. It was stated in the House of Lords by Lord 
Grey that between January i and December 31, 1832, not 
less than 9,000 crimes had been committed in Ireland. Of 
murders alone there were 196 ! Assassinations occurred 
daily; and although rewards, amounting to 12,000/., were 
offered during several months by the Government for the 
discovery of the murderers, only two such rewards were 
claimed. Witnesses were intimidated from giving evidence, 
and jurors from bringing in verdicts of guilty. 

Amidst this deplorable scene of confusion Dr. Doyle was 
not wanting to himself or to his country. On the one hand, 
he gave evidence strongly and bitterly against tithes before a 
Parliamentary committee in London ; on the other, he pro- 
ceeded to traverse the disturbed districts, * for hours harangued 
the misguided people,' until, won by the pathos and sublimity 
of his appeals, we are told, * you might behold the big tears 
chasing each other round the rugged and blackened cheeks 
of the colliers . . . many of whom came to mock, but re- 
mained to pray.* The effects of these appeals were, it is said, 
' instantaneous and incredible. Cartloads of arms, guns, pis- 
tols and rusty swords, were surrendered at the times and places 
appointed, whilst many of these misguided men, whose con- 
sciences were charred and battered as their faces, returned to 
habits of order, sobriety and the observance of their religious 
duties. It IS to be feared, however, that in many instances 
the reformation was but momentary, and that the elements 
of disorder were dispersed at one place, only speedily to re- 
combine at another. We are told that even the Bishop some- 
times thought the state of the people hopeless. After one of 
these scenes he would have fits of despondency, which would 
last for hours and even days. On one occasion he said to one 
of his clergy : * Well, James,' these people are unfit for liberty ! 
Yes, I adopt the sentiment and language of Wellington. I 


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34 Ireland before and after Emancipation. April 

am not surprised that he has disowned this country and people, 
they are savages unworthy of the blessings of liberty ! ' (vol. ii. 
p. 410). 

In 183 s a Coercion Bill was passed ; and so obvious was 
the necessity, that we find him writing : — 

* If we are to be subjected to a despotism, let it be the despotism 
of gentlemen, though but twenty-one years of age, not of the brutal 
canaille composing the Trades Unions and Blackfeet Confederacies. 
The honest and industrious people of this country will suffer less and 
prosper more under the iron rule of the constituted authorities — let 
these be who they may — than under the yoke of the impious and 
seditious, who now torment them and drive them into all manner of 
folly and excess ' (vol. ii. p. 459). 

Very remarkable words were all these, considering that 
they were uttered by the foremost patriot among Irishmen ; 
and it is a striking instance of the way in which history re- 
peats itself, that if we read * Land League ' for * Trades 
Unions ' the whole passage is exactly applicable to the state 
of Ireland during the last eighteen months. Such an expres- 
sion of opinion from such a man, uttered not in the heat of 
youth nor in a moment of passion or excitement, but at the 
close of a life spent in the service of the very people whom 
he thus characterized, and when his unwearied service was 
-drawing to an end, is most significant, and should point our 
statesmen to some truths which they have, it may be, as yet 
insufficiently apprehended. 

For it was now becoming plain that the strenuous worker, 
the keen controversialist, the eloquent preacher, the faithful 
•chief pastor, had well nigh reached the term of his earthly 
labours. Entire abstinence from every kind of exertion, mental 
or bodily, was enjoined upon him by the doctors. This was 
difficult for him to adopt while in Ireland, even had he been 
willing to obey. But he seems to have been a strong-willed 
patient at all times, declining to be bound by a medical y?«/ 
any further than it commended itself to his own judgment 

As long as it was possible he continued his pastoral duties. 
' Even when his body was worn out by a lingering disease,' 
he would sit in the sanctuary of the chapel at Carlow, hearing 
at the rails the confessions of the beggars in particular, where 
he was exposed to cold and inconvenience in many ways. 

' He had a loud voice, which sometimes became specially sharp 
during the excruciating pain of his tedious illness. The study hall 
and chapel, during the progress of some alterations at the college, 
communicated and seemed the one apartment. He was talking 
loudly in the study hall when suddenly he asked : " Is the Holy of 

Digitized by 


1 882. Ireland before and after Emancipation. 35 

Holies here?" "Yes." He at once genuflected, and with eyes 
cast down seemed for some moments absorbed in earnest prayer. 

* Though few ventured to give it, yet, when conscientiously 
offered, Dr. Doyle took reproof well. A traveller one day in ][)assing 
Braganza called upon the bishop, and after paying fulsome compli- 
ments, concluded by requesting alms. Dr. Doyle, with hauteur, re- 
plied : " That the small funds placed at his disposal were given to 
Sie poor of his district, and that charity began at home." " It ends 
there, too, sir," replied the stranger ; " and I tell you that your absence 
of humility and want of charity to the stranger unfits you for the 
office you hold." Dr. Doyle was a good deal annoyed by this 
attack, and that night he asked his curate, Mr. Maher, whether any 
appearance of pride ever marked his demeanour. " Well, my lord, 
perhaps a little may sometimes seem to assert itself," was the reply. 
" If so, it was your duty to have told me in order to its correction," 
said Dr. Doyle. " Was it left for the stranger, passing the road, to 
come to tell your bishop of his faults?"' (voL iL p. 478). 

Shortly before his death he fainted from sheer exhaustion 
after celebrating mass, but persisted nevertheless in preaching, 
and we are told : — 

'He was determined to accomplish what S. Augustine had 
mastered. " 111 lean upon God," he said ; ** He will not withdraw 
to let me fall." 

' The Church was already filled by hundreds, anxiously waiting to 
hear the bishop's sermon and receive his benediction. I went to 
hear the evangelist contend with the empire of death for the hour 
which he thought duty demanded. With a countenance pale and 
careworn, and marked by the haggard hue of wasted energy, he 
tottered up the stairs of the pulpit He was obliged to keep both 
hands firmly grasped to the front of the pulpit, or he would have 
fallen: He preached with wonderful power nevertheless, and almost 
with stentorian strength of lung. I well remember the piercing into- 
nation of his first words : ** We must preach, brethren, and woe to 
him who does not preach." The sermon was listened to with brea Aless 
attention by priests and people. It was a splendid cornucopia of 
truths and precepts, sublime and practical' (voL ii. p. 495). 

His increasing feebleness now required the assistance of a 
coadjutor ; and this relief was no sooner afforded to him than 
his worn out frame finally gave way. His death scene strikes 
the English reader as purposely dramatic in character, though 
it was imitated from the approved examples of Roman piety, 
and was probably not consciously studied. He said : • Take 
this body of flesh and fling it on the floor.' ' His attendants 
gathered up the four corners of the sheet and placed their 
burden on the ground. Dr. Doyle several times endeavoured 
to raise his long bony arms, in order to meet his fingers in an 


Digitized by 


36 Ireland before and after Emancipation. Aprft 

attitude of prayer, but they as often fell from sheer debility. 
At last Dr. Maher presented the Holy Viaticum/ 

It must be called a premature death, for he was only in 
his forty-eighth year ; but he had been fifteen years a bishop. 
His life, however, like that of our own Bishop Wilberforce, to 
whom we have already compared him, was one of those rare 
careers which, by their abnormal and marvellous activity, 
compress the incidents and the results of many ordinary lives 
within their own narrow bounds. He was a great force 
among his countrymen, but it was an intelligent and beneficent 
force ; the force of intellect and of active goodness. It must 
be considered as the consequence of the circumstances in 
which he found himself, rather than any deliberate action of 
his own, that enlisted him in the ranks of party controversy, 
and made him the keen combatant that he was on behalf of 
his country, his party, and his Church. But he was large- 
hearted enough to be fervent without bigotry, and his fine 
intelligence easily discerned the enormous importance, to so 
comparatively poor and resourceless a country as Ireland, of 
the connexion with its far larger and richer neighbour. 
Without English capital and English commerce, without the 
richer and more affluent currents of national life, which are 
our British contribution to the body politic made up of the 
two, Ireland must speedily sink into miserable poverty and 
mere listless isolation, or, as the only alternative, be absorbed 
into the possessions of some other Power, less nearly related 
to her indeed, but more resolute and ruthless in crushing out 
resistance, than England. The Irish leaders of the present have 
not chosen to see this truth, and they have blinded the eyes 
of the people that follow them. Amid the chaos of miserable 
incompetence and deplorable self-seeking exhibited by the 
petty demagogues of the day, those who have really the good 
of Ireland at heart must often long, but long in vain, for a single 
hour of the lofty and clear-sighted patriotism, strident voice, 
and torrent-like eloquence, of the great bishop, James Doyle. 

Digitized by 


1882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 37 


1. Constiiutioncs Apostolica. Ed. GuiL. Ultzen. (SuerinI, 


2. Translations of iJte Primitive Liturgies. Neale and 

LiTTLEDALE. Second edition. (London, 1869.) 

3. Eucharist, By the Rev. E. S. Ffoulkes, in the Dictionary 

of Christian Biography, (London, 1880.) 

4. Antient Liturgies, By C. E. HAMMOND, M.A. (Oxford, 


It has long been our opinion that very uneven justice has 
been done to the so-called Clementine Liturgy. It has either 
been unwisely praised or unduly depreciated. All writers 
who notice it agree in the opinion that it was never, as it 
stands^ the regular Liturgy of any Church. They differ 
chiefly as to the proportion of its text that is genuine and 
the proportion that is due to the compiler. We are not 
aware, however, that anyone has hitherto treated it as the 
learned author of the article at the head of our paper has 
done, who begins by calling it * a pseudonymous composition 
that acquired prestige solely from the honoured name, S. 
Clement of Rome, that was made to vouch for it,* and goes 
on to attribute to it sufficient influence to effect the insertion 
of the account of the Institution and the Words of Institution 
into all other Liturgies (the same not having antecedently, 
as he believes, formed a part of the Eucharistic Office at 
all), and, in the West at least, to have very seriously modi- 
fied the Church's teaching as to the Blessed Sacrament. 
Considering that in all extant Liturgies, Eastern and Western 
included, the Prayer of Consecration contains a reference to 
the Institution, and that of all these only three* out of some 
eighty Syro-Jacobite Liturgies are without the Words of In- 
stitution, while three more and one Copto-Jacobite Liturgy 
are without one member of them, this opinion of Mr. Ffoulkes 
demands investigation. We shall advert to some of his 
proofs presently. 

We assume our readers to be acquainted with the com- 
monplaces about this Liturgy, the facts of its general sim- 
plicity of structure, the absence of the Lord's Prayer, Creed, 

' See Neale and Littledale's Translations of the Primitive Liturgies^ 
Appendix I., and Scudamore, Notitia Eucharistica^ Chap. VI. § ix., for 
full references. 

Digitized by 


38 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

Prayer accompanying the Kiss of Peace, &c., all of which are 
found in most other Liturgies, also of the absence of any 
ritual directions connected with the Consecration. 

The object of the following pages is to draw attention to 
certain points in this Liturgy which we believe have hitherto 
escaped observation, and from which we hope to establish the 
position that, though (as we must allow) the Liturgy, taken as 
a whvley was not used in any Church, yet it is compiled from 
several portions of Liturgies, and that these were really 
genuine liturgical forms. We hope also to throw some light 
on the date and locality to which some at least of them may 
be assigned. 

The reader will be of course aware that this so-called 
Clementine Liturgy is found in the Eighth Book of the Apo- 
stolical Constitutions,^ given there as part of the service for 
consecrating a Bishop. On a Sunday morning the Bishop- 
elect is to be formally nominated, and a public scrutiny is to 
be held into his life and character ; and if, after a threefold 
proclamation, the people assent, he is consecrated by the pre- 
siding Bishop, who stands at the altar with two others and 
pronounces the Consecration Prayer, while the Deacons hold 
a Book of the Gospels open upon his head. After the prayer 
one of the Bishops places the consecrated Eucharist upon his 
hands,* he is enthroned in his proper seat among the rest of 
the Bishops, receiving from them the Kiss of Peace, and the 
regular celebration of the Holy Mysteries follows, at which 
he is directed to be the preacher and celebrant {Ap, Const. 
VIIL iv. 2— v. 5). 

The fifth century is the latest date that can with reason 
be assigned to the Apostolical Constitutions ; more probably 
they belong to the fourth : but that by no means settles the 
date or the authorship of the Liturgy, for the book is un- 
doubtedly in great part a compilation out of earlier material ; 
and the question at once arises whether the Liturgy may not 
belong to this category, and, if so, from what source was it 

Setting aside the i/rii?r/ improbability that in those early 
ages of the Church any private individual would have set to 
work to compose an original Liturgy, and publish it as autho- 

* It is not found in the Cod. Baroccianus (Bodleian). Some critics 
consider that the shorter form of the Eighth Book of the Apost, Constitu- 
tions found in this codex is an earlier and purer edition of it ; others that 
it only consists of extracts from the full form. The question is of little 
consequence to the purposes we have now before us. 

» For the significance of this rite, see Willis, Worship of the Old 
Covenant^ pp. 128, 129. 

Digitized by 


i882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 39 

ritative — at all events, if it did not maintain the customary 
and well-known features of the Liturgy — we think that a very 
small amount of attention is required to detect features in- 
compatible with the view of its being an original composition. 
Were the Liturgy composed by the writer of the book, we 
should at least expect to find a consistency in the mode of 
expression, in the description of Church officers, in the direc- 
tions for similar actions, and so on. But the direct opposite 
is what we find. For instance, the celebrant is generally in 
the Rubrics called iirLaKoiroSy but in the middle* (pp. 10, 11, 
12, 16) he is called apxi'Spevs, and afterwards sTriaKOTros again 
(p. 19, &c.). The forms of the Apostolic Benediction, occurring 
in two places (pp. 3, 12), differ curiously. The Deacon's pro- 
clamation (p. 11) is a repetition of what has already been 
transacted in detail, and that with a transposition of two of 
the acts. The grade of Holy Orders below the Deacons is 
called 7) virrfpsala (pp. 9, 20), vTroSuiKovoi once in the Inter- 
cessions (p. 18) and several times in the Rubrics, and is in- 
cluded in TTcis 6 KKrjpos (p. 1 8). The same persons who are 
called (p. 9) evvov'xpc 6ai<os TropevofievoL are called da/crjTal 
(p. 21). The directions to the different orders of Catechumens, 
Energumens, and Penitents, at their dismissal are given with 
several variations of expression, though the action intended 
in each case is the same. This variation is not what we 
should expect in a literary composition, for the simple reason 
that people naturally use the same language to express the 
same thing or action. 

And now a little closer attention will show, we venture to 
think, unmistakably that this Liturgy is not a homogeneous 
composition, but that it is put together from several different 

At the outset, no one reading the Liturgy as it occurs in 
the Apostolical Constitutions can fail to be struck with the 
abrupt and disjointed way in which it is introduced. The 
compiler begins by saying that the assembly for the purpose 
of the election and consecration is to take place on a Sunday, 
and describes the proceedings down to the placing of the 
consecrated Eucharist upon the hands of the new Bishop, as 
described above. Then abruptly the account goes on : — xal 
rff s(o0sv ivOpovL^iaOoi} k.tX. (VIII. v. S),as if the previous acts 
had not taken place on Sunday morning. A fresh note of 
time is introduced, which yet, from the nature of the case, 
must refer to the same day (Sunday) previously mentioned ; 

^ The references are throughout made to the pages of Hammond's 
Liturgies Eastern and Western. 

Digitized by 


40 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

for the compiler of the Constitutions seems only to recognize 
Sunday as the day on which the Holy Eucharist was cele- 
brated. This reads as if he were incorporating some other 
account of the service with his own.* 

We are next struck with the occurrence of a dismissal of 
the (f)(OTv^6fjL6voL These were candidates for immediate bap- 
tism. Hence this section would be only used occasionally : 
Easter and Pentecost being the usual seasons for administer- 
ing that Sacrament, and in some few Churches Epiphany 
also. There are some differences^ in the wording of this 
section, as compared with the Dismissal formula for the Cate- 
chumens and Penitents, which suggest that the compiler is 
here inserting from another source again. Anyhow, it is 
clear that he is giving us a comprehensive example of the 
Liturgy, including its occasional parts, just as in the Coptic 
Liturgy (Hammond's Z//. E. and JV, p. 200) we find special 
petitions for different periods of the year ; and, indeed, we 
gather from his own words later on {Ap, Const, VIH. xv. 5) 
that this is his intention. 

Then comes the great break of continuity {Lit. E. and W. 
p. II, Ap, Const. VIII. xii.). The different orders of Cate- 
chumens, Energumens, and Penitents, have been already dis- 
missed, the Deacon's Litany and Collect for the People have 
been said, the Kiss of Peace has been given, and water has 
been brought to the priests by a sub-deacon, preparatory to 
the Anaphora, when the compiler starts off with — 

* Then I James, the brother of John the son of Zebedee, direct 
the deacon to say straightway, Let no Catechumen, let no Hearer, 
let no unbeliever, let no heretic, be present. Ye who join in the 
First Prayer depart. Let no one have aught against any, let no one 
(give it) in hypocrisy.' 

It is impossible that there should be a repetition of the 
proclamations for the various Dismissals, and for the Kiss of 
Peace, at this later point in the service. But the explanation 
seems easy, that here the compiler begins to incorporate 

* Another explanation is just possible : namely, that the assembly for 
the scrutiny and eleciion was held at night. Such, according to Martene, 
was an early Roman usage. There is nothing, however, in the text to 
suggest this. The phrase which appoints the time is simply eV ^/xcp^ 

' E.g. the clause trt €KTepS>s vncp airav dtfi3afi€v is omitted ; and 
instead of the Deacon's proclamation *EavTovs rw fiova aytvvrjTf^ Bt^ dta 
rov xptorov avrov TrapdBto-dc. KXiVare Koi cvXoyctcrac. The direction is given 
in the form of a rubric. There is a special reason why this direction is 
omitted in the case of the Energumens (see S. Chrys., J/om, III., De 
incomp. Dei Nat p. 470). 

Digitized by 


1 882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 41 

another Liturgical document, in which the Dismissals were 
not given at length, but only indicated, and which he took 
just as it was. It quite falls in with this supposition that 
he should attribute this new document to a fresh Apostle, 
S. James. The directions for the Consecration of the Bishop 
have been assigned to S. Peter, and the earlier part of the 
Liturgy to S. Andrew. 

Further indications that we have a new document seem to 
be given by the appearance of the term apj(upsm for the Bishop. 
He is thus designated in the rubric before the Celebrant's 
Collect for the Faithful, and in the rubrics of the Anaphora 
till the one which follows the Great Intercession, where the 
term iirla-Koiros reappears and is used to the end. And when, 
finally, we find in precisely the same portions of the Liturgy 
remarkable internal indications of an independent unity, as 
we shall presently show in full, the suggestion assumes a 
degree of probability approaching certainty. An objection 
may, perhaps, strike the reader when he remarks that the 
Collect for the Faithful and the Anaphora are separated by 
that Proclamation of the Deacon to which we adverted just 
now as marking the separation of one document from another, 
so that this Collect for the Faithful belonging to one docu- 
ment falls within the range we have assigned to another 
document. This, however, does not appear an insuperable 
difficulty when we remember that we have to do with a tho- 
roughly eclectic compiler, who is evidently selecting from his 
materials those which he thinks will give the best example of 
the service, and who may have thought the particular collect 
in one document better suited to his purpose than the corre- 
sponding one in the other. 

But, before we go further, let us examine this particular 
section of the Liturgy in respect of its theological phraseology. 
It is an interesting speculation, and one bearing closely upon 
the genuineness and the date of this, the most important 
portion of this Liturgy, how far the composer of the Preface 
had in view the doctrines of the Gnostic Valentinus, and in- 
tended definitely to express the opposite truths. For if, as 
we believe can be shown, the allusions to that heresy are 
pretty numerous, and the way in which they are introduced is 
simple and natural, we may fairly argue that the Preface was 
composed at a time when the heresy was a real living oppo- 
nent of the Church, and that it was really intended for use in 
some part of the Church where the influence of the heresy 
was felt. Now, as we shall show, the number of these allu- 
sions is too great to be accidental, and the manner in which 

Digitized by 


42 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

they occur, being many of them single passing expressions, is 
too unstudied to allow us to deem this a private composition 
of some antiquarian liturgist. Valentinus died about i6o A.D., 
and it is said that a remnant of his sect still survived at the 
beginning of the fifth century. While then, if the above 
inferences are correct, this portion of the Clementine Liturgy 
was almost certainly earlier than the date of the compilation 
of the Apostolical Constitutions, it might have been com- 
posed at any time after the middle of the second century. 
Also, since Valentinus Wcis especially connected with Rome, 
some probability is added to the suggestion that the Clemen- 
tine Liturgy represents an early Western Liturgy. 

But we must give some examples of the kind of allusions 
we have been referring to. They will fall into three groups : 
having regard to Valentinus's theory on the nature and attri- 
butes of God Himself (including the relation of the Logos to 
Him) ; on the work of Creation ; and of Redemption. A 
full account of the system may be found in Mansefs Gnostic 
Heresies^ Lectures XI. and XH., in the Preface to Harvey's 
edition of the Works of S. IrenceuSy tom. i. pp. cxi — cxlvi, 
or in Neander's Church History ^ section iv. ; a shorter one in 
Robertson's Church History^ vol. i., pp. 38—43. We shall 
only notice here such points as are required to explain the 
allusions in the Liturgy. 

Valentinus then, without formally denying the perso- 
nality of the Supreme God, conceived for himself a primary 
being, unknowable and unspeakable, potentially containing 
all existence, to which he gave the name of Bu^o^, or Depths 
and from which he further conceived that a number of emana- 
tions (iEons) of different orders were successively evolved : 
from Bir^o^, NoO^, termed also Movoyevi^s ; from NoO^, Aoyos, 
and from A6yo9, "AvOpcoiro^. Each of these was accompanied 
by a corresponding Female Element, or JEon : namely, Xiyv, 
*A\i^Oeia, Zce)97, and ^^KKKrja-la, respectively ; though there is a 
doubt whether 2*717, the consort of Bv669, formed part of the 
original scheme of Valentinus, or whether she was not 
assigned afterwards by way of symmetry, as representing the 
idea dpprfT09, which was involved in the conception of the 
First Principle. At all events, all the rest of the scheme of 
evolution proceeded by pairs ; those above enumerated form- 
ing the first Ogdoad, these in turn giving rise to a Decad, 
and the Decad to a Dodeead of subordinate ^Eons, all 
together forming the Pleroma (irK'^payfia). These iEons 
seem really to represent personifications of the Divine attri- 
butes or operations. Besides these, three other Beings 

Digitized by 


i882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 43 

emanated from Nov*: namely, "O/oo^, the principle of Order 
by limitation, to maintain the system of the Pleroma ; and the 
higher Christ (for there were eventually three Christs), together 
with the Holy Spirit, to remedy the disturbance that had 
been wrought in the Pleroma by the uncontrolled aspirations 
of So^/o, the youngest of the iEons. 

The creation of matter and its relation to the Divine 
Essence depends upon these aspirations of %o^La, She con- 
ceived an intense desire (ivQvii,t\aii) to comprehend Euros' 
in his ineffable glory : a degree of knowledge of which NoOy 
only was capable. Finally, however, restrained by '^Opo9, 
and convinced that the Deity is incomprehensible, she laid 
aside this ivOv/j/rja-L^, which was banished as a defective 
birth, formless and helpless, outside the Pleroma, and her- 
self returned to her proper sphere. But the ivOvfJurjavs, on 
whom first the higher Christ took pity and bestowed certain 
power and form without knowledge, was further gifted by the 
lower Christ (a Being who had been formed along with the 
angels by the joint operation of all the iEons contributing 
each that which was most excellent in each) with some 
degree of knowledge and power of organization ; and from 
her now, as the Achamoth, or lower Xo^ia, came into exis- 
tence three kinds of substance, the bare material (vXiy), the 
animal ('^v%t/coi/), and the spiritual {irvevfumKov). The 
second of these took form as the Demiurge, who fashioned 
the material world out of the first, matter. The Demiurge 
also formed man ; not of the dry dust of the earth, but of 
invisible transcendental matter. Into this transcendental 
body was breathed the soul of life, and it was afterwards 
* clothed upon ' with the body of tangible flesh ; and into a 
portion of the human race, the elect, was further infused 
the spiritual prin^riple. For these only (the irvsvfjLariKoi) was 
there complete redemption and admission to the Pleroma ; 
there was an inferior degree of redemption for the '>^vx'i,Koi 
among men, who would be allowed to find rest with the 
Demiurge outside the Pleroma ; the merely carnal men, 
together with all else that is merely material, will be con- 
sumed by fire and annihilated. 

The Christ through whom the redemption, such as it is, 
is effected is the third Being of that name, being derived 
from the Demiurge, with a psychical body, who passed into 
the world through the Blessed Virgin (w* StA atoXrjvos), like 
water through a pipe, not receiving anything from her. Upon 
him the JEon Christ descended at the baptism in the form 
of a dove, and again disengaged himself before the Passion. - 

Digitized by 


44 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

With this sketch before us we shall the better see the 
force of the following expressions in the Prayer of the 
Faithful and the Preface. 

The Prayer of the Faithful begins thus : — * Almighty 
Lord, most high, that dwellest in the highest ; thou Holy One 
that restest in the holy place, without beginning, Lord of all : 
who through Christ ^ hast given us the preaching of know- 
ledge, that we might fully know Thy glory and Thy name^ 
which He manifested to us for our comprehension {sh Kard^ 
XTfylnv).* How different is this from the doctrine of Valentinus' 
First Principle, unspeakable (apfyr)Tos) and incomprehensible 
(dKaraXTjiTTos), who could only be known through his Movo- 
ysvrjs — a very different Only-Begotten from that of S. John ! 
The rest of the Prayer is such as could not be used by a 
follower of Valentinus ; but there are no single expressions 
that seem to glance directly at the heresy. We pass on then 
to the Preface. 

The opening sentence presents nothing to our purpose, 
but we soon come to this expression, * From whom {i.e, the 
Supreme God), as from a starting-pointy all things passed 
into being ' (i^ ov ret Trai/ra, KaOdirep sk tlvos afpSTrfpui^, sis to 
shac 7raprj\6ev), Now clearly the meaning intended to be 
conveyed by this, whether we take d^erripla to be the 'start- 
ing-point of a racecourse,' or, as it were, the * radiant point ' 
of a stream of meteors, is that of direct effluence of all created 
things from the same source^ and that source the Supreme 
God : an idea completely opposed to the Valentinian notion 
of successive evolutions of -^ons, with matter finally produced 
by the distractions of an abortive offspring of the youngest of 
them ! 

The next clause is * Thou art the Knowledge that hath no 
beginning, the Sight that hath no ending, the Hearing un- 
begotten, the Wisdom untaught ; in nature first, in Being 
alone, and superior to all number' On which it may be re- 
marked that, while it would be contrary to the fundamental 
principle of Valentinus to assign these attributes to the 
Supreme God, who was unknowable and unspeakable, and 
therefore the earlier part of the sentence may well be taken 
to have a reference to this theory, the last expression is well- 
nigh unintelligible, unless we interpret it with regard to some 
such conception as that of Valentinus with his Ogdoad, 
Decad, and Dodecad of iEons, arranged in mutual pairs and 
corresponding Tetrads. 

^ The expressions are italicized to which it is desired to draw 

Digitized by 


i882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 45 

Then follows an assertion of the creation of all things out 
of nothing (i/c tov firj ovros), through the only-begotten Son : — 

'And Him thou didst beget before all ages {wph navruy alwvwv^ 
which, by the way, might here be translated " before all -^ons ") by 
Thy will, and power, and goodness, immediately (afjLftrtrtvTwg), an 
only-begotten Son, God the AVord, living Wisdom, the Firstborn of 
all creation. Angel of Thy great counsel. Thy High Priest, King 
and Lord of all nations visible and invisible, Who is before all things, 
and by Whom are all things/ 

And then is assigned in detail to the same agency the 
creation of the various orders of heavenly beings and the 
visible universe. Scarcely an expression here but contra- 
dicts some detail of the Valentinian theory given above. The 
world was not, according to him, framed out of nothing ; the 
Monogen^s was not the agent in the work of creation ; the 
Logos was not the Monogenes, but a lower ^on evolved 
from him, therefore also not God ; Sophia, again, was not 
the Monogends, nor the Logos, but a still lower ^on. The 
word afieaLTSvTcos seems to glance at and contradict this 
theory of successive emanations. Again, the King of all 
things was not the Monogenes, but the Demiurge {avfiirdvTtov 
paaLkia, Iren. Adv, Hcer. L i. 9). The angels were created 
not as the rest of the creation, but by the co-operation of all 
the iEons ; and whereas in the Gnostic conception Matter 
was produced by the lower Sophia, and organized by the 
Demiurge, we have in the Liturgy the statement, ' By whose 
hands thou didst grant (all things) their being, by the same 
didst thou confer on them their well-being.' 

After a long description of the visible universe, the Preface 
proceeds to praise for the creation of man, still attributing all 
to the Supreme Father, working through the Son, in the 
midst of which the following occurs : — 

*For Thou saidst to Thy » Wisdom, "Let us make man in our 
image and likeness, and let them have dominion over the fish of the 
sea and over the fowls of the air." Wherefore also Thou didst make 
him of an immortal soul and dissoluble body, the on^ formed out of 
nothings and the other out of the four elements' 

Here, again, the identification of Xo^la with one of the 
persons of the Godhead, and with the Creator at once, is dis- 

* TJ o-g cro0io might be translated « in Thy wisdom ;' but with Just M 
Dial. c. Tryph. 61, 62, before us we are decidedly in favour of taking 
ScK^to as a persomfication. Justin, after recounting some of the titles of 
the Son of God, as Aoyor , 2o</>ia, Avva/xir, and Aofa rot) ycvj/no-awof, turns 
to this passage from Genesis, and interprets it of God the Father com- 
muning with His eternal Son, as being * the Wisdom of God' 

Digitized by 


46 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

tinctly anti-Valentinian ; and so is the description of the 
constitution of man's nature : the soul fresh-created out of 
nothing by God, instead of being inbreathed by the Demi- 
urge ; the body fashioned out of the terrestrial elements, 
instead of a mysterious invisible hylic substance afterwards 
clothed with a fleshy garment ! 

Much of this is repeated in the latter part of the Preface, 
which follows the Triumphal Hymn, commemorating the 
Work of Redemption, and introducing the account of the 
Institution and the Consecration. The point that will strike 
a careful reader most, we think, is the constant repetition, in 
varied language, of the truth, that He, who was the only- 
begotten Son of God, the Word, who had made and watched 
over and guided providentially the race of man, really took 
human nature of the substance of the Blessed Virgin, really 
suffered, was judged and died. All this emphasis must have 
some purpose. What purpose so likely as to contradict the 
Gnostic, and virtually Docetic, error of two Christs united 
temporarily, of whom the higher was impassible and left the 
lower Christ before the Passion } 

So, too, the expression that * He freed all men from the 
impending wrath ' may well be taken as a contradiction of 
the Valentinian doctrine that some men (oi'jrvsvfiaTC/col) must 
be saved ; for some, again (olylrv^cKOi), salvation is uncertain ; 
while the fleshly (ol aapKiKoi) camiot be saved. We do not 
mean to imply that such a statement as this by itself need 
refer to the heresy of Valentinus ; but it is difficult to believe 
that so many statements, which singly may refer to different 
parts of the theory, could be found together in the same 
document without being intended to glance at it. 

There is just one more sentence deserving of comment. 
It occurs immediately before the last referred to : namely, ' He 
(/>., the only-begotten Son) propitiated Thee, His God and 
Father, and reconciled Thee to the world.' It occurs again a 
little later, at the end of the Invocation of the Holy Spirit. 
Dr. Neale remarks upon the unscripturalness of this phrase, 
and considers it an argument in favour of the belief that this 
Liturgy was never really employed by any Church. The 
* marvellous theological accuracy of early liturgies,* he 
thinks, would not have allowed the phrase to remain in use. 
Unscriptural the phrase is to this extent, that it is not coun- 
tenanced by the strict letter of Scripture, according to which 
(cf. Eph. ii. i6; Col. i. 20, 21) God is said to ^reconcile us to 
Himself! It is, however, found in the Great Intercession of 
S. James* Liturgy {Liturgies E. and W. p. 44 — iraaiv fifuv 

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1 882. 

On the Clementine Liturgy. 


hi.dXKari'riQC), and it finds early support in the First Ep, of 
S, Clement (xlviii. i); also cf. Hermas, P. Vis. I. 2. i (ttw^ 
i^iXdaofiac rov 6s6v ;), and S. Chrys., Horn, in Ascens. pp.448, 
449. In the passage before us, however, we should observe 
that God is said to be reconciled, not ' to man,' but to * the 
world ' (to) /coo-/Afi)), which, from its previous use in the Liturgy, 
would include the whole material universe. We suggest, 
therefore, that the phrase may have been intended to express 
the doctrine of the reconciliation effected between God and 
His creation by the atoning work of Christ in a way less 
liable to Gnostic misapprehension than the strictly Scriptural 
one. That is to say, — 

Whereas the Valentinian looked forward to a restoration 
of harmony in the universe by the annihilation of everything 
material, and a reabsorption of that which is spiritual into the 
Pleroma, the phrase that *God is reconciled to the world' 
seems to lay stress on the mode in which God manifested 
His love through the Incarnation : God the Son condescend- 
ing to enter into His creation, which had become involved in 
the penalty of Adam's sin (Rom. viii. 19-22), bringing down 
the Godhead first into union with His alienated creatures, as 
the means of raising them to their predestined glory. We 
feel, however, that not much stress can be laid on this point. 

Before leaving this part of the subject one more remark 
must be made, which has some bearing on the locality to 
which these sections, at all events, of this Liturgy belonged. 
The verbal coincidence of a portion of the Invocation with 
some words of S. Irenaeus ' {Frag, Pfaff, 36) is well known. 

* Clementine Liturgy, 

Koi d^lOVfl€V (T€y OTTCiS .... KOTa- 

jTtyL^s TO &yi6v (rov TrvcO/xa cVi rriv 
Bva-'iav ravnjv .... oiras d.Tro(f>riV7j 
rov aprrov rovrov trSfia rov Ypicrrov 

<r0V, Koi TO TTOTTfplOP TOVTO Qlfia TOV 

XptiTTOv (TOV, Iva ol /xcroXa/Sovref avrov 
.... d(l>€(r€Oiis dfrnpTTifioTav Tvx^fTi 
. . . • fw^ff ala>p[ov Tv^wcrt 

* S, Irenceus, 
€VTav6a TTfv TTpoa^opav TcXecravrcr 


diTO(l>rivfj TTiv Bva-lav Tavrrjv koi top 

t6 al/AO TOV Xpt(TTOVj Iva ol flCTCtKO' 

d(f)i<r€a>s Tap dfiapTiSp koi TrJ£ (arjg 
ala>piov Tv\(bi(TiP» 

The use Qidno<t)aip^ is noteworthy. It is also used by S. Cyril Jer. 
in the same connection {Cat,^ M, iv. i), avTov ovp &To<l)Tjpafi€Pov km 
fliroPTos Tre/oi tov dpTov, Tovro fiov c'crrt to (rafia, K.t.X. (and § 6, a7ro<^a(r«). 
Mr. Ffoulkes translates it ' declare ; ' but it is used in ordinary Greek 
for * to make ' (change) a person or thing into something else. See refer- 
ences in Liddell and Scott, s. v., and Arrian, Atex, Anab, vii. 9, where 
Alexander, addressing his Macedonian soldiers, says that his father 
Philip had found the Macedonians mere nomad barbarians, and ' made 
them dv/ellers in cities^ {voK^viP ohcfiTopas dneffyrfpi). And though, of 
course, with God * to speak ' is the same as * to effect ' — * He spake and it 

Digitized by 


48 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

It is moreover hardly possible to avoid the inference that S. 
Irenaeus in that passage is referring to the words of the 
Liturgy which he used. But it is also noteworthy that the 
Valentinian heresy was the one which gave occasion to S. 
Irenaeus* great work Adversus Hcereses, and with the con- 
futation of which that work is largely occupied. It would 
seem then not altogether improbable that this part of the 
Liturgy, namely, the Prayer of the Faithful, and from the 
Preface onwards to the end of the Invocation, may represent 
a Liturgy of the West with which S. Irenaeus was familiar. 

To return then to our point, we are inclined to distinguish 
at least three documents from which the prayers of the so- 
called Clementine Liturgy are derived. No. I is from the 
beginning to the Kiss of Peace ; and, perhaps, also to this 
belongs the latter part of the Liturgy, beginning after the 
Great Intercession, to the end of the service. At least, we 
can detect no reason wh)'' this portion should not have come 
from the same source. No. 2 is the Formula for the Dismissal 
of the fpcoTi^ofievoi, inserted, as we think, in the midst of 
No. I. And No. 3 is the d/>;^45/>5i;p-Fragment, with its anti- 
Valentinian phraseology. 

The long rubrics throughout the Liturgy we are inclined to 
assign to the compiler himself, on the ground that rubrics of 
any length or elaborateness are unknown in any other liturgies 
till a very much later period than has ever been assigned to this 
book. It is of little matter, however, to the questions which 
we are now discussing whether this suggestion be accepted or 
not. This view 1 of the case disposes of the objection which 
Renaudot adduces against an early date for this Liturgy, 
based on the fact that it is not found in the Syriac version of 
the Constitutions. We can readily grant with him that the 
insertion of the Liturgy, and some parts of the Liturgy itself, 
are due to the Greek compiler, and so far may represent, 
therefore, the Liturgy of the fourth and fifth century. Yet 
the documents out of which he compiled it might be, and as 
we believe are, of much earlier date than his compilation. 

A Liturgy, shorter than that in the Greek, is given both 
in the Coptic and iEthiopic forms of the Constitutions in the 
corresponding place. 

The question may reasonably enough be asked here, What 
is the nature of these documents from which you suppose the 
Liturgy to be compiled ? and the answer to this question is 
closely connected with the more general question. Where and 

was done ' — yet in order to avoid possible misconception it is best to 
translate diro^aiveiv by ' make,' in the Liturgy and S. Irenaeus alike. 

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1 882. On tlie Clementine Liturgy. 49 

how did liturgies begin to be committed to writing ? All the 
evidence bearing upon this matter is extremely vague. There 
are just three or four passages which are always referred to ; 
and the manner in which they are claimed in turn as favour- 
able to both sides of the question is enough to show how 
little they can be relied upon. There are — (i) Justin M., 
Apol. 1. 67, * The president puts up prayers and thanksgivings 
alike, o<T'r\ Svvafjs,i9 avr^.' Bearing in mind this use of the phrase 
in two other places in the same work (Ap. i. 13 and 55), and 
the phrase coy hvvafiUfiov {Dial, c, Tryph. 80), we are inclined 
to translate this * to the best of his power/ and to think that it 
implies a certain freedom of composition and even of extem- 
pore prayer ; yet those who take the opposite view, and 
think that it means ' with all his might,' or the like, have 
much to urge in their favour,* not least of all the somewhat 
similar expression in the consecration prayer of the Clemen* 
tine Liturgy — ' We give thanks to Thee, O God Almighty, ou;^ 
o(Tov 6<l)SLKofjLsv dX)C oa-ov BvvdfisOa ' — occurring in the midst 
of a written Liturgy. (2) Tert. Apot. c. 30 — * Christiani .... 
sine monitore, quia de pectore, oramus.' Here some take 
de pectore to mean 'heartily,' others to mean 'extempore.' 
The references in Facciolati, Lex.^. v. 'pectus,' seem to settle 
this in favour of * heartily.' For the meaning ' extempore * 
there is plenty of support when some other word is combined 
with thephrasey modifying it in this sense, but not when it is 
used absolutely ; whereas for the meaning ' heartily ' we find 
an exact parallel in Statius, Sylv. IV. vi. SS, 'Sic mitis vultus, 
veluti de pectore gaudens, Hortetur mensas.' (3) S. Basil, 
De Spiritu Sancto, c. xxviL 66 — 

' Which of the saints hath left us in writing the form of Invocation 
at the Consecration of the Bread of the Eucharist and the Cup of 
Blessing ? For you know we are not content with just the words the 
Apostle or the Gospel gives us, but we use other words before and 
after them, which we have received from unwritten teaching, because 
we think the effect of them upon the mysiexy is powerful' 

Doubtless, if this passage be taken by itself, it would seem 
to bear evidence against written liturgies in S. Basil's time : at 
least it would imply that the most solemn part was not com- 
mitted to writing. But when we look at the context we see 
at once that S. Basil is contrasting, not what had been com- 
mitted to writing with what had not been committed to 
writing, but what rested on Scripture for its authority with 

* See the remarks of Bishop Lightfoot, App. to S. Clement o/Romef 
pp. 270, 271, and note i. 


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50 On the Clenuntifte Liturgy. April 

^hat rested upon tradition. What rested upon tradition 
might very well have been committed to writing in a post- 
Apostolic period. And so these liturgical formulae of which 
he speaks, and which were supplementary to the words of 
institution — the only formulae for which Scripture is the 
authority — may have been in writing in S. Basil's time for all 
he says to the contrary. It is evident from his way of speak- 
ing of them that they were fixed and well known. 

In the absence of any clearer evidence than this we are 
driven to form our own conclusions from the probabilities of 
the case. There seems no certain evidence of any Office 
Books for public use in the Church till about the fourth 
century. There is mention of traditores giving up the 
Scriptures, but not of giving up other books, as must almost 
certainly have happened if such had existed. The only 
possible allusion to Church office books is where Origen quotes 
a charge made by Celsus, * that he has seen in the possession 
of certain Christian priests strange books with the names of 
demons in them and juggleries ' (Orig. con, Cels. vi. 40). These 
might possibly have been Diptychs, containing the lists of 
names and form of prayer for them, or Forms of Exorcism 
(see Diet. Christ. Ant., art. * Liturgical Books '). On the other 
hand, occasional quotations from the public prayers,^ or, at 
least, allusions to them as to forms familiar to the people, and 
the still more direct evidence from the actual existence of ^ 
portions of liturgies which probably date from these early 
times : all this goes to prove that the liturgies very early 
took fixed forms, and must have been committed to writing, 
though very probably only in parts, and for the private use of 
the priests and deacons at home, who recited their parts 
memoriterm the actual services. Those who know the capa- 
cities of cultivated memory — and memories were more habi- 
tually cultivated when books were scarce, and writing 
materials costly, and education limited — need not wonder at 
the idea of a liturgy being recited without book, even though 
it contained so lengthy a form in it as the Clementine 

It is now time to observe those features which impress us 
with a sense of the genuineness of this Liturgy ; in other 

1 Cf. I Ep. Clem. c. 59 J-?^- ; Just. M., ApoL i. 13 ; Dial. c. Tryph. 41, 
117; Iren., Frag. Pfaff. 36; Orig., Horn, xiv., in Jer. p. 217, 218 ; 
Tert., Apol. 30, 39; Gyp., De Orat. Dom. p. 425; S. Cyr. Jer., 
Cat. M. V. 

' E.g. Mone's Missa, v., and The St. Gall Fragments^ attributed to S. 
Hilary (Bunsen's Anal. Anie-Nic. iii. p. 263 seq.) We should be inclined 
o add these fragments preserved in the Clementine Liturgy. 

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i882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 51 

words, which incline us to believe that it represents a real 
stage in liturgical development, and to draw inferences from 
it as much as if it had actually been used. 

I. A little attention soon shows that a striking uniformity 
of type runs through it all. It is composed of a number of 
acts of Prayer and Thanksgiving, each of which consists of 
three parts. Take the Prayer for the Catechumens as a good 
example. First comes the Mid-day Prayer of the Deacon, in 
which he pronounces clause by clause the subjects of the 
Prayer, while the people respond, * Lord, have mercy.' In 
this case the people are "standing, the Catechumens, the objects 
of the Prayer, are prostrate. Then, secondly, the Catechu- 
mens are bidden to rise and pray for themselves. ' Commit 
yourselves to the only unbegotten God, through His Christ.* 
This must take place in silence, since no indications of a 
7rpo<T(f>d)vr](n9 follow this direction. Thirdly, they are bidden 
to bow their heads, and the Bishop (or Celebrant) utters a 
benedictory prayer over them. This threefold division of 
each act of prayer — namely, Deacon's Biddin|^ Prayer, Silent 
Prayer of Self-Oblation, and Celebrant's Benedictory Collect — 
appears throughout this Liturgy, with one exception, and that 
a very significant and undesigned testimony of genuineness. 
The Silent Prayer is wanting in the Form of Dismissal of 
Energumens ; and here S. Chrysostom comes to our aid, for 
he tells us (Horn. III. De incomp. Dei Nat, p. 470, Migne, i. 
727) that the Energumens were only bidden to bow the head, 
because they might not pray themselves with the congregatiofi} 

The full triple division is seen again in the Prayers of the 
Faithful, where, however, according to another place in S. 
Chrysostom's works {Hom. xviii. in Ep. 2 ad Cor. p. 568, 
Migne, x. 527), iripav isl fyevsaBai svxh^> ^^^ nravrss o/iolas 
SIT iBd(f}0V9 KsifJLsOa, koX Trdvres Ofiolcjs avca-TcifisOa. The 
Prayer is of a different kind, for the Bidding-Prayer embraces 
all conditions of men, and the whole congregation, being now 
only composed of the Faithful, are prostrate during it ; they 
a// rise to commend themselves to God, they all bow their 
heads for the Celebrant's Collect. The Great Eucharistia 
(the Preface), with the Consecration and Great Intercession, 
of course stand alone as the centre of the service ; but before 
Communion the same feature appears again. Wl|at we may 

* The Silent Prayer is indicated in the Dismissal of the Competentes 

by the words of the rubric KaTaa-<l>payi<rdfjL€voi r^ 0€^ dia rod ;^«otov 

^'^vTov^ and in the Dismissal of the Penitents by the words ^Avdarapres r^ 

B^bia vpv x/9«n-ov, where we must supply iavrovs irapdBta-6^ from analogy, 

to make out the granmiar. 


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52 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

call the * Prayer of Humble Access ' shows precisely this 
threefold division. The Deacon repeats a short form of the 
General Intercession ; he then says to the people, * Let us rise 
and commend ourselves to God through His Christ' — the 
regular formula — and then follows the Bishop's Collect. So 
again at the close of the service, after reception, the Thanks- 
giving is cast in the same mould. The Deacon first * bids ' 
some subjects of thanksgiving, then says, * Let us rise. In 
the grace of Christ let us commit ourselves to God, the only 
unbegotten God, and to His Christ;' and the Bishop con- 
cludes with a set form. Finally comes the Dismissal-Bene- 
diction by itself. 

Evidence is not wanting that this threefold division of 
the prayers is a mark of antiquity. The Prayer for the 
Catechumens, which may be collected in full from S. Chry 
sostom * {Horn. ii. in Ep. 2 Cor. p. 435, Migne, x. 399-404), 
exhibits this feature clearly ; and, indeed, it has a very close 
resemblance throughout to that of the Clementine Liturgy, 
though not verbally identical with it. 

Moreover, we cannot but believe that there is a connection 
between this threefold act of Prayer and the * Three Prayers 
of the Faithful ' mentioned in the nineteenth Canon of the 
Council of Laodicea. That canon directs* that after the 
Catechumens and Penitents have received the Benediction 
and departed, * the Three Prayers of the Faithful are to be 
said, the first in silence, the second and third aloud ; and 
then the Pax is to be given.' The difference in the order 
indicated may at first seem a difficulty. But the change of 
order is just what we might expect to take place when the 
old threefold act of prayer became obsolete, as it certainly 
did, though traces of it may still be observed in some of the 
earlier liturgies, e.g. in S. James (Greek and Syriac), in the 
Armenian and the Coptic, just in that part of the service 
where the Prayers of the Faithful would come. For the self- 
oblationary character of the old silent subdivision of the 
prayer would very well fit it to commence the second great ^ 

* The Liturgical references in S. Chrysostom's works are collected and 
arranged in their proper liturgical order in Hammond'sl The Ancient 
Liturgy of Antioch, (Clarendon Press, 1879.) 

^ TTie canon in question is as follows : — wept t£^ dtiv , , . , firra 
t6 €$€\S€7v rovs Karrixovfxevovs^ r&u iv fitravola rr^v €v\riv ylvta-Baiy #col tovt<ou 
npoa-tXBoPTOiv xmh X^^P^ *"* VTroxonprfa-avrcaVy ovra>f rap irior&v ras fvx^Ls 
yiv€crBai rp€is ' fiiav fuv rrfv irtmrqv hut (r(a>7r^f , rriv bt h^vripav Koi rpirrjp bia 
irpoar<lMavfior«as 7r\rjpova'6aiy tiff ovrtms rfip elprfvriv ditoardat • • . «e.r.X. 

* The whole Eucharistic Service, if framed on any one of the Catholic 
models, falls into three main divisions, the objects of which are respec- 

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i882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 53 

division of the whole service, the key-note of which is Ob- 
lation ; and with it might in some places have been joined 
the actual oblation of the Elements. 

It is not impossible that in the Liturgy of S. Chrysostom's 
time we see a transition stage of the Liturgy in this respect. 
It appears probable that the Elements were placed on the 
altar, and the curtains which had concealed the altar from 
view during the Missa Caiechumenorum were withdrawn, im- 
mediately upon the dismissal of the Catechumens and Peni- 
tents, before the Prayers of the Faithful. The Prayers of the 
Faithful seem still to retain the threefold form (see Hammond's 
Liturgy of Antiochy pp. 12, 13), but it is easy to see the 
appropriateness of a silent prayer during the interval which 
must have occurred at that point, and it may well have been 
formally substituted for the subsequent Silent Prayer (as we 
believe it was) by the Laodicene Canon. The transition from 
this to an Offertory Prayer, said secreto at this point by the 
celebrant, like the Roman * Secretae,' would be easier still. 

2ndly. The agreement of this Liturgy with that de- 
scribed by Justin Martyr (middle of second century) is very 
striking ; the order of the following points being precisely the 
same in both, (i.) Lections from Old and New Testaments, 
followed by a sermon. (2.) Prayers said by all in common 
for all estates of men. (3.) The Kiss of Peace. (4.) The 
Oblation of the Elemetits. (5.) A Long Thanksgiving {svxapfr- 
oTiav iirl ttoXv irotelTai), which (as we further learn from 
Apol, 1. c. 13 and Dial, c. Tryph. c. 41 and 1 17) mentioned the 
creation and all temporal benefits conferred on man, such as 
the means of well-being, the qualities of various kinds of 
created things, the changing seasons and so forth, as well as 
the spiritual blessings in the destruction of his spiritual 
enemies through the Passion of Jesus Christ. The Passion 
seems to have been commemorated, and the words of Institu- 
tion recited * (Apol. i. 66), which part of the Thanksgiving 

lively Instruction, Oblation, and Communion. The Offertory is the 
presentation of the Offering preparatory to ihe Great Oblation, and both 
belong to the second division. 

^ This statement is denied in the article which stands at the head of 
our paper : namely. Smith's Diet, of Christian Biography^ Vol. II., s, v. 
* Eucharist,' p. 245, &c. The object of that article is mainly dogmatic, 
and the earlier part of it is occupied in showing that the early liturgies 
and the early Fathers alike make the consecration of the Elements in the 
Holy Eucharist depend upon the Invocation of the Holy Spirit. With 
the dogmatic statements of Mr. Ffoulkes we are not now concerned, but 
in the course of his investigation he asserts it to be * almost certain ' that 
the Words of Institution had no place in the primitive Liturgy before the 
Clementine appeared, else ' we should have found some refertnce to it in 

Digitized by 


54 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

Justin Martyr considered to effect (6) the Consecration. 
(7.) Then came -Pni^^rj/ in particular, one for the enjoyment 

the earlier Fathers ' (/// supra^ p. 248). Of course it is one thing whether 
or not the Words of Institution were recited in the Liturgy, and quite 
another thing whether the consecration was held to depend upon them 
in any degree. As to the first, the purely historical, question, we are 
quite unable to accept Mr. Ffoulkes' representation of the evidence in 
several particulars. 

First and foremost, with regard to Justin Martyr. That writer's most 
remarkable statement about the Holy Eucharist is as follows : — {Ap. I. 
66.) ' Ov '^p a>s KOLvov aprov ovbe koivov TTofia ravra Xafipdvofitv * aXX* ov Tponov 
dia Xoyov Beov a-apKonoir^Btis *Irj(rovs Xpiorof 6 crtarrip ^fiav Koi a-dpKa koI 
alfia xmep craTrjpias rjfi&v to'X^v, ovtkos Ka\ rfjv dt' €vx^s \6yov tov Trap* avrov 
€V\apumj6€ia-av rpo(f>r]v^ i^ ^js alpa Koi adpKts Kara fiiTaffoXfjV rpe<l)ovTai 
r)u.5iVy €K€ivov rov (rapKowoirfBevros ^Irjcrov Koi <rdpKa Kal aipa €bwdxOrjfitv 
€ivai' — which Mr. Ffoulkes translates thus : 'For it is not as ordinary 
bread, or ordinary drink, that we receive these things ; but as Jesus 
Christ Our Saviour was incarnate by the Word (i,e. the Spirit : comp. 
c. 33, where S. Luke, i. 35 is quoted) of God, so we have been taught 
that the food from which our flesh and blood derive nourishment by 
assimilation, having been blessed by invocation of the Word that is from 
Him (viz. the Holy Ghost, once more), is both the flesh and the blood of 
that same Jesus who was made flesh.' Thus far we give Mr. Ffoulkes' 
translation and parenthetical comments ; what follows is our own. The 
passage proceeds : * For the Apostles in the books of memoirs written by 
them, which are called Gospels, have handed down that they received 
the following commands : namely, that Jesus having taken bread gave 
thanks, and said, " This do in remembrance of Me. This is My body;" 
and that He took the cup likewise and gave thanks, and said, " This is 
My blood,'' and distributed it to them alone.' In Mr. Ffoulkes' transla- 
tion above we take serious exception to two things. The first is (i) his 
explanation : the Word {t.e, the Spirit). He adduces in support of this 
c. 33, which, however, appears to us to make a statement precisely the 
converse of that which he alleges. S. Justin is there explaining Luke i. 35 — 
' The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest 
shall overshadow thee' — and Matt. i. 20, 21 ; and he says, 'We must 
here understand " the Spirit and the power proceeding from God " to be 
nothing else than the Logos, who is also the Firstborn of God.' Justin 
MartyPs statement in both places is that the Logos, proceeding from the 
Father, by His own Divine power entered the Blessed Virgin's womb 
and became incarnate ; and it is impossible to argue that because he 
interprets ' the Spirit' to mean * the Logos' in one place, therefore * the 
Logos ' means ' the Spirit ' in another place. (2) Secondly, we demur to 
Mr. Ffoulkes' translation of 5*' tvxrjs Xoyov rov nap* axtrovy * dy invocation 
of the Word{i,e, the Holy Ghost, once more) that is from Him,* We 
doubt here, as before, the possibility of Xdyoj meaning * the Holy Ghost ;' 
but, supposing it were possible, we cannot accept either * prayer to the 
Logos' or * prayer yZ7r the Logos,' — one of which must be meant by 
* invocation of the Word* — as a translation of eux4 Xoyov. * Prayer of 
{i.e. uttered by) the Logos,' it might just possibly mean ; but that would 
not suit Mr. Ffoulkes* theory. Fortunately we have another passage of 
Justin Martyr, in c. 13 of the same treatise, which helps us. It runs 
thus : — * Who that is in his senses will not acquit us (Christians) of the 
charge of being Atheists, seeing that we worship the Maker of the 

" irerse . . . and praise him to the best of our power with words 

Digitized by 


i882. On the Clementine Liturgy. 55 

of eternal life {ApoL i. 13); this part of the service being 
closed by the united * Amen ' of the congregation. And (8) 
lastly, the Communion, This order also agrees almost entirely 
with that of the Liturgy of Jerusalem (middle of fourth cen- 
tury) as inferred from S. Cyril of Jerusalem {Cat M. V.) We 
say * almost/ because he does not indicate clearly the place of 
the Oblation of the Elements. It is, however, reasonable to 
infer that it followed the Kiss of Peace from his pointedly 
quoting the text, * First be reconciled unto thy brother and 
then come and offer thy gift' {ut supra, § 3). The order of 
service in the Second Book of the Apostolical Constitutions, 
and the Greek S. James, together with the Liturgy used by 
S. Chrysostom, have the Offertory before the Kiss of Peace. 
This would indicate a difference of use ; and, if we are correct 
in the inference drawn above (p. 53), a use that was later in 
point of time than that of Justin Martyr and the Clementine 

Putting together these different indications, we are strongly 
inclined to believe that the Clementine Liturgy is a genuine 

of prayer and thanksgiving (Xoyo) ev^^r koX €vxapurTias) for all things that 
we enjoy . . . ? ' The phrase X6y<o cvxrjs here gives us the clue to 
§i' evxTJs \6yov above, and seems to mean * the form of words in which the 
prayer is expressed.' We then have to ask, what is the Form of Prayer 
(6 Trap' avTov) * proceeding from Christ ?' If it were not for the succeeding^ 
clauses, which we have translated above, directly quoting the Words of 
Institution, and by means of the yap bringing them into direct connection 
with this statement, we might accept one suggestion that has been made^ 
namely, that S. Justin means here the Lord's Prayer. As it is, we see that 
the \6yos evxrjs must be some formula uttered by Our Lord, recorded in 
the Gospels in the accounts of the Institution, and repeated at every 
Eucharist. No words answer to these conditions but the so-called 
Words of Institution, which, accordingly, we believe to be the formula to 
which S. Justin refers. 

Nor can we regard it so clear as Mr. Ffoulkes does that these Words 
of Institution did not form a part of the Liturgy known to S. Cyril of 
Jerusalem. It is true that S. Cyril attributes the Consecration to the 
Invocation of the Holy Ghost, and that he does not in the Fifth Lecture 
on the Mysteries quote the words of Institutioa as part of the Liturgy, 
We might, perhaps, have expected that he would do so had they occurred 
in the Liturgy ; yet, after all, he quotes but a very few words from the 
Liturgy in all. But in the Fourth Lecture, at the beginning of it, the. 
Words of Institution are quoted and brought to bear upon the candi- 
date's reception of the Eucharist in such a way as to suggest very 
naturally that the words formed a part of the service. We therefore 
hold that S. Justin M. certainly, and S. Cyril of Jerusalem very probably, 
witness to the recitation of the Words of Institution in the Liturgy as 
known to them ; S. Chrysostom does so very distinctly, at least twice. 
Nor can we see any great ^ indefiniteness' in S. Cyprian's witness to the 
same effect, as Mr. Ffoulkes does {ut supra, p. 247, b), * Et quia passionis 
Ejus mentionem in sacrificiis omnibus facimus .... nihil aliud quam 
quod Ilia fecit facere debemus ' (Ep. Ixiii. 17). 

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56 On the Clementine Liturgy. April 

representation of a Liturgy used somewhere in the West, 
probably in Rome, about the middle of the third century ; not 
the exact Liturgy totidem verbis^ because it appears to be con- 
structed out of at least two, and perhaps more, independent 
documents, and because of the presence of the long rubrics, 
which, we believe, would be an utter anachronism in any 
liturgy even approaching the latest date ever assigned to 
this one ; yet genuine in a very true sense, because the docu- 
ments out of which it is constructed are genuine, being pro- 
bably the libelli which bishops, and probably priests too, had 
for their own use to study the service in. In that case the 
rubrics might possibly belong to the libelli themselves, being- 
early traces of what afterwards became common in the West,, 
the libri officiates or libri de officiis ; or they might, as before 
suggested, be due to the compiler. 

The connection with the Valentinian heresy, and the 
agreement with Justin Martyr's account of the Christian 
Liturgy, make for its Western home, though they are but 
slender indications. Yet quite consistent with this are the 
complete system of discipline, and the advanced stage of 
development of the ecclesiastical hierarchy which is assumed 
in the Liturgy. This has been sometimes made a ground for 
assigning a later date to the Liturgy, and perhaps necessarily 
so, if it be assumed that the Clementine is a Palestinian or 
other Eastern Liturgy. But the whole ecclesiastical system 
developed earlier in the West than in the East ; and there by 
the middle of the third century we might fully expect to see 
the Catechumens and Penitents dealt with as we find them 
dealt with in the Clementine Liturgy ; while as for the various 
ecclesiastical Orders, we find Cornelius, Bishop of Rome («>• 
A.D. 250), in a letter to Fabius, Bishop of Antioch, preserved 
by Eusebius (H. E. vi. 43), enumerating presbyters, deacons, 
sub-deacons, acolytes, exorcists, readers, and doorkeepers as 
the regular ministers of the Roman Church. That same 
letter, it may be remarked, uses irpoa<f>opd in the sense in 
which it is used in the Clementine Liturgy {Lit. E. and JV. 
p. 21) for the portion of the Consecrated Bread given to each 
communicant. Here there is another slight indication point- 
ing in the same direction. 

Possibly some of our readers will think that, because the 
order of its main parts is that which is commonly considered 
typical of the chief family of Oriental Liturgies, it ought to- 
be classed as an Oriental rather than a Western Liturgy. We 
are here on ground where we can only tread tentatively and 
by inference. There is so little positive evidence about the 

Digitized by 


i882. Charles Lowder. 57 

historical spread and development of liturgies ! If we were 
obliged to assign the Clementine Liturgy to a late date, say 
the fifth century, the above objection would be a weighty one. 
But if we are justified in placing it in the third century, we 
escape many difficulties. For there are some grounds for 
believing that the order of the West Syrian, or Constantino- 
politan, Family of Liturgies is nearest to that of the primitive 
Liturgy — the order (we do not mean the form of words) — 
which was probably Apostolic, and therefore at first carried 
by the first bands of missionaries into every country where 
they preached the Gospel, This order, then, and that too in 
the Greek language, was probably carried to Rome, and re- 
mained in use for some time. The early history of the Latin- 
Roman Liturgy has not yet been unravelled. If it derives 
its origin from a time within the first three centuries, we may 
state with confidence that it cannot have had exclusive pos- 
session of the field. We had occasion above to quote from 
the Greek letter of a Bishop of Rome, written in the middle 
of the third century ; and there is plenty of evidence to show 
that there was at least a large Greek element in the Roman 
Church within that period. The names preserved, the titles 
used, the documents remaining, such as they are, all point to 
the fact that Greek was at least largely (if not commonly) in 
use among them. So that it need cause no surprise if a 
Greek Liturgy, agreeing even in small particulars with that of 
Jerusalem, be attributed to the Roman Church during the 
third century. Neither the language nor the form in the 
case of the Clementine Liturgy is inconsistent with this 


Charles Lowder^ a Biography. By the Author of the Life of 
S. Teresa. Second edition. (London, 1882.) 

This is a book of absorbing interest, which must needs com- 
mand a wide circulation, not among Mr. Lowder's many per- 
sonal friends and those who substantially agreed with him in 
doctrine, but among all Churchmen who, whatever be their 
views on the question of Ritual, know a true man when they 
see him, and venerate self-devotion in the work of winning 
souls to God. The late Vicar of S. Peter's, London Docks^ 

Digitized by 


58 Charles Lowder, April 

was not a man of brilliant abilities or great social attractiveness; 
he was, the biography repeatedly informs us, by no means 
eloquent as a preacher, nor did he at first know how to make 
religious teaching attractive; his insight into character was 
not always to be relied upon ; his asceticism impaired his 
health, and withal his working force. To some persons he 
gave the impression of being naturally stiff and cold ; of 'even 
practising a reserve of speech and manner,' of having to acquire 
gentleness by efforts which might be called * business-like and 
mechanical' (pp. 115, 118). But if ever a man was real, 
Charles Lowder was that man. What need to speak of his 
calm unexcited courage, his splendid patience, his unsparing 
laboriousness, his habitual far-reaching charity, his burning 
love of souls, his intense loyalty to Christ as a personal 
Saviour i We speak of the founder of S. George's Mission, the 
man whom the rough population of that wild East London 
district received with suspicion soon deepening into violent 
hostility, and ended by adopting as their own * Father 
Lowder ; ' who, ii) September of 1859, was nearly thrown into 
the docks by a mob elaborately lashed up into fury, 
and whose coffin, in the September of 1880, was beset by 
'crowds of weeping men* pressing forwards only to get a 
touch of the pall that covered it. As the Spectator of January 
21 justly said, this memoir is ' the record of a very noble life : ' 
a life full of unconscious greatness, to which the term 'heroic* 
would not be misapplied. 

Some, perhaps, have forgotten that Mr. Lowder served his 
apprenticeship to London Church work under Mr. Skinner (so 
recently taken from us) at S. Barnabas, Pimlico, from the 
autumn of 18 51 to the late summer of 1856. It was at a time 
of vehement anti-Catholic agitation that he began his ministry 
as assistant curate at that celebrated church. Puritanism, or 
popular Protestantism, had already exhibited its readiness to 
use very base weapons against whatever it deemed ' Popish.' 
Furor arma ministrabat. If ever a religious party has de- 
moralized itself by employing the most unspiritual and 
unevangelical agencies, on which it could not pretend to hope 
that a Divine blessing would rest, by joining hands with the 
world in its worst form to secure its assistance against 
unpopular opponents, it is the party which profited by the 
riots at S. Barnabas in 1850 and 1851, and the riots at S. 
George-in-the-East in 1859 and i860, and which, having 
thrown its activities into the lines of the Church Association, 
is now deliberately bent on rooting out of the Church of Eng- 
land whatever will not conform itself to the Privy Council 

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1 882. Charles Lowder. 59 

version of Prayer-Book law. Let us turn back to two 
grave and far-sighted articles of the Christian Remembrancer 
for 1851, and extract a few significant passages, which cannot 
be read in 1882 without a sense of thankfulness on one hand, 
but also of renewed anxiety on the other : — 

* It is quite true that appearances are formidable ; the odds are 
against us ; we are playing at this moment, we are well aware of it, 
a losing game ; it has been so for some time, and things are not likely 
soon to mend. It is trying, very trying, not the least so to Englishmen, 
to be on the losing side. . . . We must be content with it, how- 
ever, we must make up our mind to it, ... if we will help to 
keep the Enghsh Church what she has been, the witness to England 
of the truth and continuity of the Catholic Faith. Those who can- 
not bear to be on the losing side had best not embark in her cause, 
— at least not on her own principles. . . . Our day, it seems, 
is to be one of conflict. . . . We may not relish such addi- 
tional trials of courage, constancy, steadiness of aim, and clear- 
ness of thought. But . . . they prove nothing against the goodness 
of a cause ; we had no right to expect exemption from them ; and 
they will compensate for much sadness and many losses, if they make 
us more thoughtful and more true * (vol. xxi. p. 210 seq,). 

Again — and this will introduce one of the most painful 
sides of the subject — the writer is speaking of such a policy as 
Bishop Blomfield pursued in the S. Barnabas case : 

*If these (acts) indicate what the High Church party are to 
expect from the authority of the EnglisK Bishops, they are signs of 
coming mischief and confusion more portentous than any other, 
because they are signs of increasing blindness to realities, of increas- 
ing readiness to sacrifice deliberately truth and fairness to the menaces 
of the many or of the great^ increasing inability to face prejudice and 
clamour, increasing insensibility to the real strength, real dangers, real 
weapons of the Church. The Bishops cannot alter things . . . cannot 
alter her documents, . . . cannot prevent men from reflecting on 
them, comparing them, acting on them. The Bishops may place 
themselves in contradiction with the spirit of their own office, by siding 
against Church principles in favour of their ancient and plain-spoken 
opponents. Whether our Bishops are likely to gain by such a course 
may be questioned, but one thing is certain, that they will not be the 
arbiters of the result,' &c. (ib. p. 502). 

What was the ' Ritualism ' of S. Barnabas at the time in 
question ? What was it, in Mr. Skinner's words (p. 36) — 
' which roused such a storm and provoked such outrage,' so 
that towards the end of 1850 'the religious people of the dis- 
trict were so horrified by the blasphemous cries of the mob 
that they were fain to keep within their houses V It consisted 

Digitized by 


6o Charles Lowder, April 

in three things — I. 'Procession of clergy and choristers from 
and to the vestry. 2. Obeisance towards the altar on entering 
and retiring from the sanctuary. 3. The eastward position. 
4. Coloured coverings proper for the season on the altar.* 

Bishop Blomfield, it appears, approved of bowing to the 
altar, but not of bowing during the * Gloria ; ' he allowed pro- 
cessions for the daily office ; he gave way to Mr. Skinner's 
remonstrances in favour of retention of the chanting of the 
prayers. But observe what he tried to enforce ; it is well that 
such orders should be remembered in 1 882 : * If you don't say a 
collect ' (before the sermon, instead of the invocation of the 
Holy Trinity), 'and don't say it to the west, I will withdraw your 
licence.' Referring to a metal cross on the retable, he said, 

* If it costs me my see, I will have that cross removed.* Again, 
in 1852 he forbad flowers to be placed on any occasion on the 
altar. It is only fair to add that his next order, ' Let the cele- 
brant stand, at the commencement of the Communion Service, 
at the north side of the table,' is but the literal transcript of 
the rubric, whatever sense he put upon * north side.' Two 
years later Mr. Skinner appeals to the late Baron Alderson for 
advice, on the grounds that the Bishop's commands infringe 

* the principle of freedom within the Church's law.' Baron 
Alderson, in his reply, is startlingly outspoken : it was best for 
a clergyman to take his stand on the ecclesiastical law, instead 
of yielding to extra-legal mandates ; best for him, and for the 
Bishop also. ' A coward, as the Bishop is and always was^ 
will give up much protection by quitting the shelter of the 
law' (p. 45). 

And so the troubles dragged on until the Lushington 
judgment, for a time, disheartened the High Church party, and 
the first decision of the Privy Council, in December 1855, 
was welcomed as a deliverance by hearts which could not 
foresee the very different treatment which the Ornaments 
Rubric was to receive from that same body in the Ridsdale 
judgment. It is curious, and in a sense melancholy, to find 
Mr. Lowder in 1857 triumphantly appealing to the exposition 
of law by the Privy Council in the Westerton case. He could 
not then foresee what was to come. 

We have spent, perhaps, too much time over these early 
years of Mr. Lowder's London life. He took charge of the 
proposed mission in Mr. Bryan King's huge parish after some 
periodical attempts at gathering a congregation * in a court 
leading out of Ratcliff Highway.' The first of these visits 
was made on Ash Wednesday in 1856. Mr. Lowder, after 
much correspondence with the rector, in which it seems he was 

Digitized by 


1 882. Charles Lowder. 6i 

for a time disposed to claim an amount of independence incon- 
sistent with the rector's indefeasible responsibility, and to urge 
his own views somewhat too stringently on the man who had 
invited him to the work, 'took up his abode at the mission- 
house in Calvert Street on August 22 in that year* (p. 97). 
The other field of work, in Wellclose Square, was occupied 
in Lent, 1857. 

For an account of the condition of the district, we must 
refer our readers to the graphic account of the Rev. Robert 
Linklater, to whom this volume owes so much (p. 107). 
Nor shall we dwell on the conditions of * work in the Mission 
districts' as carried on by Mr. Lowder and his assistants : 
that work of which Bishop Wilberforce wrote, ' I quite long 
to go and cast myself into that Mission' (p. 135). The 
physical discomforts of their abode are described by Mr. 
Rowley (p. 143), and with characteristic humour by Mr. 
Linklater (p. 289). But something must be said about * the 

As we have said, a second mission-house had been 
established in Wellclose Square, where, in 1857, two clergy- 
men lived, while Mr. Lowder and another remained in Calvert 
Street. The two former, after a while, departed, and at a later 
time (not, like some of their successors, without warning to Mr. 
Lowder) submitted to the Roman Church. Their places were 
filled by Mr. Anderson and Mr. Temple ; and when these left 
in 1858, Mr. Lowder welcomed a companion and coadjutor 
who was to be during four years his main support, and after- 
wards to be one of the most conspicuous men in the English 
Church — Alexander Heriot Mackonochie. So, in 1859, 'six 
clergy at least were labouring in the parish, with a large staff of 
lay assistants ; fifty-four services were held weekly, . . . arid 
six hundred children were under instruction in the six schools 
which had been set on foot' (p. 170). This outburst of mis- 
sionary energy alarmed those whose interest it was to keep 
religion from becoming a power. There were such in the parish. 
For particulars on this topic we refer to the biography (p. 172). 
Thus began the agitation, which at first succeeded in intro- 
ducing a strongly Puritanical clergyman as lecturer into the 
parish church, and then made his services the occasion of dis- 
turbing those which were held ordinarily by the parochial 
clergy. The churchwardens (one of them a publican) never 
took cognizance of the outrages of the mob. The police 
authorities and the Home Secretary were * in vain appealed to 
for protection by the clergy.' The church was closed for a 
while ; the mission-houses were threatened ; * Mr. Lowder's life 

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62 Charles Lowder. April 

was in danger : ' but the storm passed away from the mission 
chapels and again gathered around S. George's Church. 

And now, much against our will, we have to observe the 
part taken by ecclesiastical authority in the business. The pre- 
sent Archbishop of Canterbury (then Bishop of London, in the 
third year of his consecration) is a deeply religious man, with 
a most true devotion to the cause of Christ. During his pre- 
lacy he has developed great practical abilities: he has shown 
himself skilful in utilizing opportunities, and in influencing 
minds ; he has also been visited with exceptional sorrows ; 
and throughout his career his kindness of heart has won him a 
wide-spread attachment, which of late has been intensified by 
sympathy. But history will not veil, and Churchmen cannot 
forget, the serious mistakes which have marked his administra- 
tion. We ascribe them to three causes. Trained up in early 
life as a Presbyterian, he has never assimilated the historic 
theology of the Church ; he has been unable to enter into the 
heart and spirit of the Church revival ; his instincts have 
steadily pointed to those views of the relations of Church and 
State which are popularly called Erastian. Next, he has had 
no experience of a parish priest's duties and difficulties ; 
and lastly, his remarkably resolute will has been accompanied, 
as is so often the case, by a self-confidence which has blurred 
his insight into the complexities of a critical situation, and 
made him take an estimate far too simple to be true. 

Bishop Tait had impressed Mr. Lowder's former superior 
with his 'good temper' and his fairness of mind, having 
* given way ' on two points on which he had at first insisted 
(p. 54). * Nothing,' says the biographer, 'could be kinder 
tiian the words' addressed by him as bishop-elect to Mr. 
Lowder in 1856; the letter, which is both frank and cordial, 
is given at p. 136. Three years later, the vestry of S. 
George's appealed to him against choral service and the use of 
eucharistic vestments, which had been pronounced lawful in 
the Westerton case with the bishop's concurrence (p. 177). 
Unfortunately he could not resist expressing his contemptuous 
dislike of ' this childish mummery of antiquated garments.' 
Mr. King agreed to abide by his decision on this and another 
point if he were undisturbed in other matters. The bishop 
decided against him ; the church was reopened, * the conces- 
sions were as fuel to the flame,' and the bishop showed his 
want of perception of the real motives of the rioters by urging 
that turning eastward after the sermon, at the doxology, 
should be given up, as * the chief cause of remaining irritation.' 
However, he promoted the next application to the Home 

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i882. C/iarles Lowder. 63 

Secretary for additional police assistance ; it was granted, but 
only during a few weeks. The opening of i860 saw a yet 
worse outbreak of sacrilegious fury, in which 

*the whole service was interrupted by hissing, whistling, and 
shouting ; songs were roared out during the service and lessons ; 
cushions . . . and books were hurled at the altar ... the clergy 
were spat upon, hustled, and kicked within the church, and only 
protected from greater outrages by the efforts of sixty or eighty 
gentlemen from different parts of London, who, unasked, came to 
the rescue ' (p. 180). 

Lord Brougham spoke indignantly in the House of Lords 
of the imperative necessity of putting down the outrages ; the 
police were again sent to the church, but did not prevent 
disgraceful scenes, in which the mob, while indulging in their 
usual 'blasphemous' outcries, vented their spleen on the 
choir stalls, the altar hangings, and the altar cross. The 
bishop gratified them by ordering the removal of all these. 
The clergy took refuge within the altar rails ; the mob seized 
on the seats there placed for them. The bishop ordered the 
seats to be removed, and the clergy to be seated * wherever 
the churchwardens might choose ! ' * Every act of the bishop 
of London,* wrote a layman in a letter previous to this last 
order, * has resulted in a triumph for the rioters.' In June 
Mr. Thomas Hughes, who had already, with characteristic 
manliness and generosity, joined the ' defenders ' of the out- 
raged clergy in October, wrote to Mr. Lowder, saying of the 
bishop's conduct, ' I do not think he has acted well in this 
matter, and would have nothing to do with a plea coming 
from him,' but suggested, with * his approval,' that Mr. King 
should take a year's rest, and that Mr. Septimus Hansard, who, 
though not a High Churchman, • honestly appreciated and 
respected that section of the Church, and the work they were 
doing,' should be put in charge of the parish. This was 
effected. * Still the riots rather increased than abated.' On 
November 14 the bishop wrote to Mr. King, recommending 
fresh concessions. Mr. King refused them. Before he sent 
this answer from abroad, the bishop had issued a fresh ' mo- 
nition ' to Mr. Hansard (* monitions,' we see, were heard of in 
those days as well as in these), 'requiring him to yield up 
. . . all that had been- demanded.' Mr. Hansard, to his 
honour, refused to break the engagement into which he had 
entered with Mr. King to maintain, e.g. the choral service ; 
he resigned his charge ; the bishop's chaplain took the duty ; 
and ' mob law ' triumphed— by what assistance we have seen. 

It is necessary, though it is painful, to keep these things 

Digitized by 


64 Charles Lowder. April 

on record. They ought not to be forgotten. But what fol- 
lowed was a memorable instance of the overruling of evil for 
good. * Out of the eater came forth meat' When there were 
no longer any altar hangings to be defaced with peltings of 
orange peel, no longer any chanted Glorias to be interrupted, 
no longer any surpliced choir-boys to be bullied and mal- 
treated, no longer any mission clergy to be fair game for 
brutal insult — when there was no more ' fun ' of this sort to 
be had at S. George's, and no more to be got out of the in- 
terested parties who, for their own business-reasons, had set 
the fun agoing — then a sort of reaction began to set in. The 
very completeness of the external victory, in that exception- 
ally desecrated church, drew off those of the rioters who had 
come thither from a distance, and left those who were resi- 
dents without their excitement and their reward. If Bishop 
Tait had possessed in 1859 that sense of humour which he 
has often displayed in later life, he would have seen the gro- 
tesqueness of the supposition that the persons who vented 
their * irritation ' were honest zealots for Protestant simplicity, 
and saw a profound theological difference between turning to 
the east and to the west. He did not know the people whom 
he was so anxious to satisfy. 

* One of the most conspicuous of the parishioners who made 
themselves conspicuous in fostering and canying out the disgraceful 
scenes in the church was fined at the Middlesex Sessions for keeping 
houses of ill-fame ; and the rest were not famous for their purity or 
their piety. The character of some of these men was thus set forth 
by a young man who attended the night-school in the Calvert Street 
district : ** It's all a question of beer, sir, and what else they can get 
. . . Religion ain't anything more to them than it is to us. They 
gets paid for what they do, and they do it likejhey'd do any other 
job " ' (p. 149, from a letter by Mr. Rowley), 

What wonder that they did it ? However, when there 
was no more to be done, some of these poor roughs began to 
bethink themselves. Some glimmering of the truth, as to the 
men whom they had hunted and the worship which they had 
profaned, began to dawn upon them. ' Some,* wrote Mr. 
Lowder himself (p. 188), * who came to scoff, remained to 
worship.' There were several instances, says his biographer, 
of such persons, * whose very profanity had been the means of 
their being brought to a better mindy and who became choristers 
in other churches, or assisted priests in mission work * (p. 191). 
Surely a beautiful and cheering sample of the unexpected 
triumphs of grace, of its marvellous quickness to take the 
powers of evil in the rear ! * The very dregs of the people,' 

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1 882. Charles Lowder. 65 

^e read, ' were taught to think about religion.' Mr, Rowley 
thinks that * Mr. Lowder was more popular at the close of the 
riots than he had ever been before.' New agencies for good 
sprang up, one of which was the Working Men's Institute, 
established by a stranger who had helped in resisting disorder 
at S. George's (p. 191). The cloud, so to speak, had lifted ; 
the district which had been worked from the Calvert Street 
mission-house and its chapel became independent of S. 
George's ; the Church of S. Peter's, London Docks — a house- 
hold word, we are told, in New Jersey (Preface, p. vii) — was 
consecrated on June 30, 1866, Mr. Lowder being its first 
vicar. And then came, with hardly a warning, that ' fearful 
visitation * of cholera, which did more than an)rthing else to 
* conquer the people,' as the biographer expresses it ; to break 
down what remained of their mistrust ; to bind their hearts, 
once for all, to the pastor who gave himself up, with such 
absolute devotedness, to the work of helping them in their 
supreme need. Why say more than that, from this date, they 
never spoke of him but as ' Father Lowder ? ' 

No Churchman can read the story of the troubles of those 
days of S. George's mission without feeling his faith invigo- 
rated. It is more effective than many chapters on evidences ; 
it is like seeing the Kingdom of God at work. We must not 
omit to say that during the stress of the pestilence Bishop 
Tait wrote to Mr. Lowder, inquiring about his health and 
desiring him to * command his services if he could be of use ; ' 
and soon afterwards, at Mr. Lowder's request, he came to S. 
Peter's, with Mrs. Tait, on Sunday, August 19, 1866, visited the 
patients in the cholera wards and hospital, and preached to 
nine hundred people in the church. This was to act like a 
bishop indeed (p. 224). 

For an account by a fellow-worker of the principles on 
which Mr. Lowder carried on his persistent fight with igno- 
rance and wickedness in their stronghold, we must refer our 
readers to p. 163. 

* The spiritual victory of S. Peter's is a witness to this power of 
the old faith and ancient ritual of the church of Christ to reach the 
hardest and most abandoned hearts, and win them back to purity 
and the love of God.' 

He preached Christ in the Church, Christ acting through 
His ordinances upon the soul. It was the doctrine of the 
Incarnation made practical. Whatever might be said of sacer- 
dotalism as represented, or misrepresented, by narrow-hearted 
formalists, it could never be said of this true priest that he 
set up a system in place of a Person, or his own office as * the 

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66 Charles Lowder. April 

substitute for an absent, instead of the witness for a present 
Lord.' The biographer says that he ' spoke openly to those 
who were awakened and troubled of confession and absolution, 
not as a dangerous remedy to be used in extreme cases, but 
as freely offered to all requiring more comfort and counsel 
than they could find without it.' The root-idea of confession^ 
as he put it forward, was the heinousness of sin and the 
promise of its pardon through the blood of Christ ; and, this 
presupposed, ' I wonder,* one of his fellow- workers says, * how 
people who object to confession would deal with the sort of 
cases which form the principal part of mission work in East 
London and places of the same class. Without confession 
they would be working entirely in the dark' (p. i6i). 

For ceremonial beauty in itself Mr. Lowder seems to have 
had no special liking ; Mr. Linklater says that he was not 
a Ritualist of the * gushing,* or ' sentimental,' or Romanizing 
type ; that ' he had glorious rituals because he thought it his 
duty to put before the eyes of his people the pattern * (in the 
Authorized Version sense of the word ; we should now say 
the copy or image) * of the worship in heaven.' The outward 
appointments of the church ' give an air of comfort and dignity, 
which is not the least important lesson for the poor people to 
take back to their squalid homes * (p. 288). That he made the 
Eucharistic service the centre of the worship, *goes without 

But what has come of it all, in regard to moral ameliora- 
tion and spiritual growth? We are told at p. 165, it is 'not 
only that open professional sin has been swept away from the 
streets of S. Peter*s ; that there is not one house of ill-fame 
in the whole parish, where within a quarter of a mile streets 
are peopled with those poor outcasts ; but also that the 
communicants of S. Peter's have been lifted above their 
suffering life into joy and peace.' Through Church teaching 
of this intensely Christian kind there has been * raised up,, 
from most unhopeful materials, this staunch and noble army of 
communicants, five hundred strong, rescued from slavery, 
and restored to their lost heritage. It is a fact which 
demands the attention of all who care for missionary work * 
(p. 166). Yes ; and of all who, professing to care for souls 
and to seek the glory of Christ, think ' sacramentalism ' 
unspiritual and deadening, and lend an ear to those who say 
of its visible expressions, * Let us make havoc of them 
altogether,' and of its most hard-working maintainers, ' Come, 
let us root them out' 

We must pass over the internal trials which the mission 

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1 882. Charles Lowder. 67 

endured in 1868 by the sudden secession of three curates, 
under circumstances painfully illustrative of the loss of 
candour and the disregard of social honour which seem in too 
many cases to accompany that process of moral Romanizing 
which is quite distinct from the intellectual acceptance of 
Roman dogma. One may marvel that Mr. Lowder had not 
observed the change taking place in these young clergymen. 
For one thing, he lived at the other end of the parish ; for 
another, Mr. Linklater says broadly enough, * he had ab- 
solutely no discrimination of character. . . . He was so 
transparently simple and true himself, that he expected to 
find others as sincere and real.' Nor can we dwell on the 
Church Association's attempts to find ' an aggrieved parish- 
ioner.* (For some racy sayings of his own people about any 
who might come * to worry the Fatherl and to two spies of this 
estimable society who were seen in S. Peter's taking notes, 
we must refer to pp. 241, 244). Bishop Jackson was in no 
haste to promote their object ; and when the inchoate per- 
secution came to be dealt with by Archbishop Tait, we are 
told that he *had the courage to quash it' (p. 245). Nor 
again, can we do more than refer to Mr. Linklater's charming 
account of S. Agatha's Mission (especially of the lads' club), 
or his vivid, and in parts humorous, description of the daily life 
and work of the S. Peter's clergy (pp. 250^ 283^). We 
will only say that he insists pointedly on the importance of 
house-to-house visiting ; and that the boys and young men 
who came within the genial sunshine of his presence had 
a privilege which, it is pleasant to think, they soon learned 
how to value. 

Let us come on to the end. Mr. Lowder's health, it seems, 
had been undermined for a long time ; it began to give way 
as early as 1868; it broke down in 1874-5. Foreign travel, 
in which he had always delighted, refreshed him for a while ; 
but he was obliged to stay away from S. Peter's for months, 
making Chislehurst his abode. He went abroad again in the 
August of 1880, and never returned alive. The cause of 
this tragical loss to his parishioners and to the Church was 
mountaineering persisted in at sixty in spite of the warnings 
of exhaustion and other ailments. It must be said, piteous 
as the fact is, that 'Father Lowder' died in a foreign land, 
without the last rites, and dependent on the attention of 
casual English travellers and of a most kindly Tyrolese 
nurse,- because he could not give up his long-cherished 
scheme of ascending the * Gross Venediger.' The readers of 
the biography will be able to picture the closing scene mainly 

F 2 

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68 diaries Lowder. April 

by help of the nurse's very touching letter. They will see 
the sufferer, sick more nearly to death than he then knew of, 
* look imploringly at her/ as if feeling the bitterness of dying 
among strangers. As is so often the case, the accounts vary 
a little ; the nurse says that he felt sure, before midnight on 
September 8, that he was dying; Mr. Taylor, an English 
gentleman, returning to the sick-room an hour later, thought 
he was ' amazed ' by the doctor's sentence. He lived until 
the early morning of September 9. The parish priest had 
paid him a visit, and Mr. Lowder had asked whether he 
might receive Communion. He must have known that this 
was impossible except on terms of submission to the Roman 
Church ; and he was exceedingly careful to exclude all 
notion of his being prepared to make that submission. ' Bear 
witness that I die in the faith of the Anglican Church, for 
they may say I died a Roman Catholic' To ask, then, 
whether he might communicate was needlessly to pain the 
kind priest, who went as far as he could by pronouncing 
a blessing ; we can only suppose that Mr, Lowder thought it 
right to cast, so to speak, on the Continental Church the 
responsibility of refusing him Communion. It was as much 
as to say, ' I would fain communicate under your ministry, if 
you would not exact wrong terms of Communion.' Viewed 
in this light, the question must have been i^\it pro forntd. 

Lamentable as it is that such a life should have been lost 
through what must be called a strange imprudence, we may 
perhaps think that it was well for Mr. Lowder not to have 
lived until increasing weakness had forced him to resign his 
London work. Had he done so, — had he, in this sense, sur- 
vived himself, — London and England would have missed the 
grandly pathetic lesson which was taught by such a funeral 
as his parishioners gave to their dead * Father.' We shall not 
describe it ; let our readers turn to the last chapter of the 
biography. * Everything,' says the proverb, ' comes to him 
who can wait' Mr. Lowder did, and could wait, ' making his 
soul his own.' And the unwonted sight of white draperies for 
altar, and chancel, and stall at the funeral service must have 
been an expressive symbol alike of the pure single-heartedness 
of that devoted ministry, and of assurance that the principles 
which had been its strength — ^whatever sacrifices they might 
demand, whatever checks they might encounter, whatever 
mistakes might be occasionally made in their application — 
had in them that which could not die, 

* But when the wrath of man was past, 
Should conquer and should reign at last.' 

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i882. Convocation in lyoi. 69 

We conclude with the words of the Spectator: — 

* What we wish to ask is, whether it has really come to this, that 
there is no room in the Church of England for men like Mr. 
Lowder? It is obvious that if the bishops and magistrates of 
twenty years ago had had their way, with a Public Worship Regula- 
tion Act to give effect to their ' monitions,' Mr. Lowder, instead of 
civilizing a barbarous population, would have wasted his life in a 
prison celL Would that have been well done ? ' 

Our authorities in Church and State might do worse than 
to consider this question, with their eyes on the prospects of 
religion in England, and on the responsibility of crushing 
agencies that have proved themselves powerful in its defence. 

Art. IV.— convocation IN 1701. 

1. The Epistolary Correspondence of Francis AtterbtiryyD,D.y 

Bishop of Rochester, (London, 1783.) 

2. Letters on Various Subjects to and from Win, Nicolson^ 

D,D,y Archbishop of Cashel, (London, 1809.) 

3. Life and Death of King William III, BISHOP KennETT. 

(London, 1706.) 

4. A Narrative of the Proceedings of the Lower House of 

Convocation relating to Prorogations and Adjournments, 
&c. (London, 1 701.) 

The relations between Bishops and Presbyters in the pre- 
sent day are no doubt somewhat strained. On the one 
side lawlessness and insubordination are freely charged ; on 
the other, onesidedness and the lack of true Church spirit. 
The atmosphere is not altogether serene, but the bark of the 
Church has sailed through stormier waters than any that are 
now to be dreaded, and far more bitter contentions between 
officers and crew have not availed to wreck the goodly vesseL 
It is not without a reassuring effect to cast one's eyes back over 
these past complications, and to observe the very small 
amount of harm they in effect produced. In fact the real 
season of danger to the Church is the season of profound tran- 
quillity ; when rulers do not vex with interference, and the 
ruled do not trouble with protests and opposition ; when all 
are happily content to acquiesce in doing nothing. Into this 

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70 Convocatioft in 1701. April 

calm sea the turbid and angry waters of the Revolution period 
flowed and were quieted during the eighteenth century. 
Bishops and Presbyters were at peace : but what a peace I 
Better far than this the most angry disputes of the Revolution 
era. To one episode in these disputes we propose now to direct 
the reader's attention. 

It Is not to be supposed that the 400 or 500 bishops and 
clergy who refused to take the oaths at the Revolution settle- 
ment represented the whole of the discontent felt by the 
clergy of the Church of England at the change of rulers. The 
nonjurors were the section which had the courage of its 
opinions, but among the jurors there was a large number who 
held every opinion which the others held, but yet did not feel 
themselves called upon to sacrifice all to their scruples about 
allegiance. The effect of this was that many men remained in 
office in the Church with somewhat uneasy consciences. They 
cherished bitter feelings towards the Government in which they 
had perforce acquiesced, and towards the bishops who were 
selected for patronage by this Government, and who gave it 
their vigorous support. Circumstances had brought about a 
union between politics and churchmanship. and the strongest 
antagonisms arising from each came together in concentrated 
power. The Bishop was a Whig and a Latitudinarian ; the 
Presbyter, a Tory and a strictly exclusive Churchman : and 
this antagonism, first developed at the Revolution, went on 
increasing as the reign proceeded. So long as Queen Mary 
lived there was always some sort of salve for the transferred 
allegiance, and some slight consideration shown by the ruling 
powers for the large phalanx of uneasy Churchmen. At her 
death things took an unfavourable turn. The King cared 
nothing for conciliation, and was openly indifferent to all 
forms of religion. The Queen had taken an interest in 
Church patronage. William did not trouble himself about it, 
but handed over the royal right of nomination to a junta of 
Whig bishops, who were careful that none but safe men should 
enjoy the good things of the Church. This state of things 
offered a great opportunity to any man who was able and 
willing to be a party leader, and such a man was found in 
Francis Atterbury. Handsome, clever, eloquent, fairly learned, 
and of unshrinking audacity — hating the new dynasty, which 
had come in when he was too young to be called on for 
personal adhesion to it — nurtured on the choicest pabulum of 
Oxford traditions — Atterbury was exactly the man for the 
crisis and the occasion. In the ignorance of that age he was 
thought by many to have held his own against the great 

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i882. Convocation in lyoi. jt 

Bentley in the Phalaris dispute. Some even opined that he 
had come off victorious. All must have been impressed by 
the wit, vigour, and audacity with which he had urged his views. 
He was an admirable preacher : a writer in the Tatler speaks 
of him as * adding to the propriety of speech, which might 
pass the criticism of Longinus, an action which would have 
been approved by^ Demosthenes.' ^ Even Bishop Burnet, who 
hated him cordially, declares that he 'was an excellent 
preacher.' ^ What his powers as an orator were, his speeches 
remain to testify. There was probably no man in England 
at that time who was in this respect his equal. All that 
was needed for Atterbur)'' was an occasion for coming to the 

One of the most galling, and at the same time most 
legitimate, causes of discontent among the clergy was the con- 
tinued suppression of Convocation. Ever since, at the Revolu- 
tion, Tillotson had tried his comprehension scheme, and been 
signally foiled by the Church spirit of the Lower House of 
the Convocation of Canterbury, this body had been kept in 
abeyance. Tillotson had recommended this course to King 
William, and Tenison, his successor, was altogether of the 
same mind. The injustice was palpable, and the injury to 
the Church at so critical a time, extreme. It is amusing to 
read Burnet's comment : 

* These men, who began now to be caDed the High Church party, 
had all along expressed a coldness, if not an opposition, to the present 
settlement They set up a complaint of the want of Convocations, 
that they were not allowed to sit nor act with a free liberty, or con- 
sider the grievances of the cieigy, nor the danger the Church was 
in. This was a new pretension never thought of since the Reforma- 
tion.' 3 

The new pretension, however, proved to have some- 
thing in it. In the year 1697 appeared the famous Letter to 
a Convocation Man^ published anonymously,* demanding as 
a right the meeting, debating, and acting of Convocations of 
the clergy, simultaneously with the meeting of every Parlia- 
ment, and arguing in the strongest manner that the circum- 
stances of the times imperatively demanded that this ancient 
and inalienable right of the Church of England should be no 
longer kept in abeyance. The sensation caused by this out- 
spoken utterance was immense. An answer to it was 

1 Tatlery No. 66. » Own Titnes^ p. 676. » Ibid, p. 670. 

^ It is attributed sometimes to Sir B. Shower, sometimes to Dr. Binkes. 
The former was probably the author. 

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72 Convocation in 1701. April 

attempted by Mr. Wright in a Letter to a Member of Parlia-- 
menty and a more learned and weighty one by Dr. Wake in 
The Authority of Christian Princes over their Ecclesiastical 
Synods. Now was the moment for Atterbury. He saw that 
Wake had grievously overstated his case : that he had attri- 
buted to English Sovereigns all the powers belonging to the 
absolute Princes of the Eoman Empire, and that the very- 
best construction that could be put upon his attempt was to 
describe it as * an endeavour to advance the prerogative of the 
Prince in Church matters as high, and to depress the interest 
of the subject spiritual as low, as ever he could with any colour 
of truth/ * But,' said Atterbury— 

* Those divines who read lessons to princes how to strain their 
ecclesiastical power to the utmost without exceeding it, and oppress 
their clergy legally, are not surely the best men of their order. They 
are Church Empsons and Dudleys ; and usually find the fate of such 
wretched instruments, to be detested by the one side, and at last 
abandoned by the other. Could we excuse his ill principles, yet 
what shall we say to those injurious reflections that accompany them? 
— those slights and reproaches he so liberally casts on his order 
when it has the ill luck to come in his way. The clergy of his own 
time are dealt with yet worse by him. That part of them which 
desire a Convocation (that is, by his leave, the far greater part of them) 
are so represented by him as if they were irregular in their lives, 
violent in their tempers, and factious in their principles, and the 
Government is excited to take vengeance upon them as men embarked 
in a separate interest, and averse to all methods of supporting it.' ^ 

With this congenial theme to work upon, Atterbury applied 
himself to the task, and just at the beginning of the year 1700 
published his famous treatise on the Rights^ Powers, and 
Privileges of an English Convocation, The book was received 
with an absolute chorus of approbation. It showed consider- 
able reading. It was composed in an excellent style, and was 
full of lively touches of satire and invective, which were 
especially pleasing to the Tory clergy as against their Whig 
superiors. The University of Oxford at once voted to 
Atterbury an honorary degree of D.D. Even Dr. Wake writes 
(March 28) that ' the world is as full of Mr. Atterbury's book 
as I left it in Oxford. I find men's judgment follow their 
affections. Some look upon it to be a complete conquest, 
others to have no such formidable appearance in it ; but in 
this all agree, that it was writ with a hearty good will, and may 
be a pattern for charity and good breeding.' ^ Not all, how- 

^ Atterbury's Preface to Rights, Powers, and Privileges of Con- 

' Wake to Charlett. NicolsorHs Correspondence, 

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1 882. Convocation in 1701. 73 

ever, who were castigated in this clever book could receive their 
stripes with the meekness of Dr. Wake. Archdeacon Nicolson, 
who was much ridiculed in it for his historical publications, vs 
very angry. He speaks of it as * surly,' * ill-natured,* and 
* bantering ;* tries to prove that the materials of it were only 
second-hand ; calls Atterbury the * pert gentleman of Christ 
Church, who has a much greater share of wit than logic* * 
And yet all this time this book, which was creating so much 
commotion, was composed on an entirely false basis, and was 
a complete perversion of ecclesiastical history. For the whole 
argument is based upon the assumption that the part of the 
writ summoning the Bishops to Parliament, and at the same 
time directing them (prcemunientes) to cause two of their clergy 
to be elected to attend the Parliament, applies to the election 
of the clergy for Convocation. A very slight acquaintance 
with the Church history of the reign of Edward I. might 
have taught the admirers of Atterbury's bold argument that 
the Parliamentary writ and summons of the clergy, and the 
Convocation writ and summons of the clergy, were two entirely 
distinct things. The former was an invention of Edward I., 
who, finding the clergy very hard to manage in the matter of 
supplies, wanted to get representatives of them in Parliament, 
and thus make laymen and churchmen join in one vote of 
supply. The latter was the ancient ecclesiastical summons to 
a Church Synod issuing from the Archbishop, sometimes with, 
sometimes without, the royal permission. But men in those 
days had not paid much attention to mediaeval Church history, 
and Atterbury was skilful enough to make the most of the 
undoubted fact of the old Parliamentary summons. This 
seemed to give to the Church Synods so important a constitu- 
tional status that the clergy welcomed it with the greatest 
enthusiasm. Burnet, Hody, and Kennett immediately answered 
Atterbury's book. The Judges had a serious consultation as 
to whether it ought not to be indicted for assailing the pre- 
rogative.2 But all this only enabled Atterbury to bring out, 
with a great flourish of trumpets, a second edition in December 
1700, containing some answers to his opponents, and bearing 
his name on the title-page, with a dedication to the two 
Archbishops: The battle in fact was won so far as influence 
went. The new Tory Ministry made it an absolute condition 
with the King that a Convocation should be summoned, and 
allowed to sit and debate ; and Tenison — the ' old Eock' — the 

' Nicolson to Wake and Dean. Nicolson^s Correspondence, v. i. 
* Nichols's Memoir of Atterbury, xvi. 

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74 Convocation in 1701. April 

most uncompromising of Whigs and Latitudinarians — ^was 
called on to preside over the turbulent spirit which had been 

The Low Church party, conscious that a victory had been 
won over them, tried to minimize it by industriously spread- 
ing reports, that though the Convocation might be allowed to 
sit, yet it would be immediately prorogued and kept silent 
for another ten years. This was stated so confidently that 
even Atterbury was imposed upon by it.^ Meantime he was 
anxious to bring it about that whatever the fate of the Con- 
vocation might be, at any rate the principles which he had 
sought to establish in his book might have practical applica- 
tion in the way in which the Convocation was summoned. 
The second edition of the Rights and Powers came out just 
at the moment that the Convocation elections were to begin. 
The Bishops of London, Rochester, and Exeter (Compton, 
Sprat, Trelawny) were convinced by Atterbury's ingenious 
but fallacious argument that the Prcemunientes writ in the 
Bishops' summons applied to the Convocation, and summoned 
their clergy both under the Parliament writ and the Convo- 
cation writ.^ Atterbury declared that the same was about to 
be done in the dioceses of Oxford, Lichfield, Winchester, 
and Peterborough.^ The forms of this writ, which had not 
been used since the Restoration, were zealously supplied by 
Atterbury,* and Bishop Compton was even induced to de- 
mand of the Archbishop that he should direct his suffragans 
to execute this writ as well as his own. When the Convoca- 
tion met on February 5 (1701) Atterbury was able to declare : 
* We have as remarkable a majority in the Lower House as 
there is in the Upper the other way.' ^ He took his seat as 
Archdeacon of Totnes with a strong anticipation of doing 
something important towards advancing the liberties, powers 
and privileges of the inferior clergy. The first great matter 
was the choice of a prolocutor. Dr. Jane,^ who had served 
the High Church party so well in a previous Convocation, 
was now incapacitated by ill health, and by the general con- 
sent of the party Dr. George Hooper, Dean of Canterbury, 
was selected as their candidate. There was no opposition, 
the moderates not feeling themselves strong enough to carry 
a prolocutor. On February 19 Dr. Hooper was presented to 
the Archbishop as president by Dr. Jane, in ^ an admirable 

^ Atterbury to Trelawny, Corresp, ill. 9. 

* Sprat to Trelawny, Corresp, iii. 16. 

' Atterbury to Newey, Corresp, iii. 17. * Jb, 5. 

^ Corresp, iii. 22. * Now Dean of Gloucester. 

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i882. Convocation in 1701. 75 

speech/ and his own speech was highly commended, and 

* had several artful wipes in it/ * The Convocation was then 
adjourned to February 25. Atterbury was not altogether 
satisfied with the temper shown by his colleagues. ' The whole 
Lower House together/ he writes, * seem to be afraid to do 
what your lordship was not afraid to do singly — to own me ; 
and I have some reason to apprehend that it is already deter- 
mined to drop me ; by whose direction and management a 
little time will show/ ^ It was hardly to be expected that a 
number of grave and learned men would have at once ac- 
cepted to the full Atterbury's historical views, which had now 
been fully exposed by Kennett and Hody. But while they 
might not agree altogether with these, they wjere, nevertheless, 
quite prepared to fall in with the spirit of the writer, and to 
wage war together with him against the domination of the 
Whig bishops. The point on which it was determined that 
the contest between the Lower and Upper Houses should 
turn was, in whom resided the right of proroguing the Lower 
House. Was the Lower House to consider itself prorogued at 
once when the schedule of prorogation came from the Arch- 
bishop, or was this to be held merely an intimation to the 
prolocutor of the Lower House that he was to prorogue that 
House, when its business was finished, to such and such a 
day and place } If the paper of the Archbishop did upon its 
receipt immediately take away from the Lower House its 
power of further acting, and oblige it to adjourn even if in 
the midst of a debate, it was clearly left in a very servile con- 
dition as regards the Upper House. If, on the contrary, the 
fixing of its adjournments and the time and place of its future 
sessions was left in the hands of its own chairman, it was 
made almost independent of the Upper House. Upon this 
point, therefore, Atterbury and his friends determined to try 
their strength. On February 25, after the Lower House had 
debated quietly for some hours, the Archbishop's writ of pro- 
rogation was brought to the prolocutor. He received it, and 
at the same time informed the House that they were * not to 
look upon themselves as prorogued until they had intimation 
from him.' Upon this some of the members became very 

* noisy,' insisting — 

*That they were actually prorogued, and that it was dangerous 
for them to stay and act on. Upon which the prolocutor briskly 
told them, that if there were any gentlemen there that thought them- 
selves endangered by slaying, the best way for them would be, with the 

* Corresp, iii. 27. ^ lb. iii. 29. 

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76 Convocation in 1701. April 

leave of the House, to withdraw. But for his part he would take the 
chair again, and ask the House what they had further to say. And 
so he did. Upon this those two persons went out of the House, 
hoping for company; but they were followed by nothing but a 
general smile and the condemnation of their own people. So after 
some short debates the prolocutor published the adjournment, which 
is to Friday next. Everything has gone hitherto as we desire, and 
there is a prospect of our going on as we begun. We seem two or 
three to one, are sensible of our advantage, and keep our temper.' * 

Matters, however, vvrere not destined to proceed quite so 
smoothly as Atterbury anticipated. At the next meeting of 
Convocation the prolocutor and two other members of the 
Lower House were sent for by the Archbishop, and reproved 
for what had been done in the matter of the adjournment, as 
well as for beginning business before the Bishops came. They 
asserted stoutly that they were within their rights in these 
matters, and it was agreed that the matter should be referred 
to a committee to search for precedents. This committee 
issued its report in a few days' time, to the effect that — 

*The common usage of the House had been to continue sitting 
till the prolocutor adjourned it, and that it was not always adjourned 
to the same day with the Upper House. It also reported that the 
Lower House was accustomed to meet in a separate place from the 
Upper,2 and not first to attend their lordships, and then be dismissed 
to the place arranged for them to sit in.' 

It will be observed that the first part of this report really 
evades the point in dispute. It was not disputed that the 
prorogation was to be pronounced by the prolocutor ; the 
point was, whether he had any independent power in the 
matter, or was simply bound to pronounce that which the 
Archbishop had sent him down to pronounce. The Bishops 
did not by any means acquiesce in the statements of this 
report. ' The Bishops drew a very copious answer, in which 
all their precedents were examined and answered, and the 
matter was so clearly stated and so fully proved, that we 
hoped we had put an end to the dispute.* ^ Vain hope ! The 
Bishops' opponents were of a more enduring fibre. The dis- 
pute was only beginning. The matter in question was a 
trifle. The real question was between Whig and Tory ; be- 
tween Williamites and Jacobites ; between domineering 

* Atterbury to Trelawny, Corresp, iii. 31. 

2 * That when in the Upper House the Convocation was prorogued or 
adjourned by the words in hunc locuni^ this House did meet apart from 
the same at the same particular place where it sat last,* 

* Burnet's Own Time, p. 690. 

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i882. Convocation in 1701. 77 

Latitudinarian Bishops and stubborn recalcitrant Presbyters ; 
between the Court and the country. 

* The Lower House,* continues Burnet, ' sat for some time about 
the reply to the Bishops' paper, but instead of going on with that they 
desired a full conference, and began to affect in all their proceedings 
to follow the methods of the House of Commons. The Bishops re- 
solved not to comply with this, which was wholly new. They had 
upon some occasions called up the Lower House to a conference, in 
order to explaining some things to them ; but the clergy had never 
taken upon them to desire a conference with the Bishops before ; so 
they resolved not to admit of it, and told them they expected an 
answer to the paper they sent them. The Lower House resolved 
not to comply with this ; but, on the contrary, to take no more notice 
of the Archbishop's adjournments. They did, indeed, observe the 
rule of adjourning themselves to the day which the Archbishop had 
appointed in his schedule ; but they did it as their own act, and they 
adjourned themselves to intermediate days.' ^ 

In this last statement the Bishop is not quite correct. The 
Lower House did not venture to sit as a House on the days 
intermediate between the Bishops' sittings, but by the device 
of appointing committees of the whole House they were able 
to compass practically the same thing. The business with 
which they occupied themselves was the censure of Toland's 
Book, Christianity not Mysterious. On April 8 the Arch- 
bishop, after delivering a speech in which the Lower House 
was censured, adjourned the Synod to May 8. The Lower 
House, taking no notice of this, adjourned itself by its prolo- 
cutor to a different day. * An affectation of independence,* 
says Bishop Kennett, * that was unknown to former Convo- 
cations, and never before attempted by any Presbyters in 
any Episcopal Church.' ^ Accordingly, when on May 8 the 
prolocutor again appeared before the Archbishop, he was told 
that whatever had been done in the meantime was * not only 
null and void, but of very dangerous consequence.' To this 
the prolocutor simply replied, handing the Archbishop a paper : 
* I am commanded by the Lower House to bring up this 
paper, and I do present it as the act of the House this day/ 
The Archbishop unwarily received the paper, which, on being 
examined, was found to be nothing more nor less than a reply 
to the Archbishop's speech of April 8. We have no direct 
account of Atterbury's- share in the composition of this paper, 
but it is highly probable that he was the principal author of 
it A paper of his, printed by Nichols, may indeed have 
served as the basis of it. In this he argues that — 

* Burnet's Own Time^ p. 690. 
' Kennett, Complete Hist. iii. 839. 

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yS Convocation in 1701. April 

*The being of the Lower House depends upon their power of 
adjourning themselves. Without this they are not a body of men 
capable of debating and resolving separately; for they only can be 
the judges of the time in which they are to manage such debates and 
frame such resolutions. As part of the Synod they are only obliged 
to attend the Archbishop and Bishops when sitting ; and, conse- 
quently, to meet always at the time to which their lordships adjourn ; 
but, as a separate House, they have all the intermediate time to pre- 
pare business for the synodical day, when both Houses, />. the whole 
Synod, assembles. No instance can be produced in the world of any 
synod which was otherwise adjourned than by the common consent 
of the majority of all such as had a decisive voice in the affairs of it 
The clergy have a decisive or definitive voice in all other synodical 
acts. How come they to want it in that of adjournment ? ' ^ 

The Bishops' reply to the paper of the Lower House de- 
clares that the members of this body have — 

*been carried up to higher degrees of disrespect and invasion of 
the metropolitan and episcopal rights (even such rights as are sup- 
ported by the law of the land and the King's writ) than ever was 
attempted by any Lower House of Convocation before this time, or 
perhaps by any body of Presbyters where episcopacy was setded and 
acknowledged of divine and apostolical institution ; unless it were by 
such Presbyters as designed to destroy that institution, which the 
Archbishop and Bishops are persuaded the body of the Lower House 
do not, though the action of a part of them manifestly tend that way. 
And their lordships give the particular instances of their exorbitant 
claims and practices in separate adjournments ; in appointing com- 
mittees of the whole House ; in giving leave as a House to their 
members to be absent ; in not answering the Archbishop and Bishops 
in writing when so required ; in demanding a free conference ; in 
pretending a power of making a distinct recess and some other prac- 
tices, which, together with the reports raised upon them, hath given 
the greatest blow to this Church that hath been given it since the 
Presbyterian assembly that sat at Westminster in the late times of 
confusion.' * 

While matters were in this embittered state between the 
two Houses, the first movement towards compromise and con- 
ciliation came from the Bishops. A committee of five Bishops 
was appointed to meet a committee of the Lower House, not 
to exceed ten, * to inspect all the acts of the House in the 
present session, and to report their judgments thereon.* This 
seemed a fair proposal — and as the members of the Lower 
House were to outnumber the Bishops as two to one — a pro- 
posal from which there was no good reason for holding back. 
But the members of the Lower House had too much of the 

^ Atterbury's Corresp. iv. 343. 
^ Kennett, Complete Hist, iii. 840. 

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i882. Convocation in 1701. 79 

proud spirit of Atterbury to agree to it They were satisfied 
with their own acts and proceedings. They were not inclined 
to consent that they should be overhauled and criticized by 
a committee. * In a new and unprecedented way of contempt 
they answered that they did not think fit to appoint such a 
committee.* ^ And as though determined to keep no bounds 
with the Upper House, the prolocutor, receiving the Arch- 
bishop's schedule of adjournment, took no notice of it, and 
adjourned the House to a different day. This was open war* 
But Atterbury and his allies were not inclined to stop even 
here. Among the Bishops the animating spirit was without 
doubt that politic and very able man who had been so deeply 
mixed up in the intrigues which had preceded the Revolution, 
and had been rewarded for his good service by the See of 
Salisbury. Gilbert Burnet, equally ready to dash off a history 
of the Reformation, or a theological treatise on the Articles, as 
to conduct a back-stairs intrigue, or play the bishop with even 
more than Whig haughtiness, had, in his hasty theology, laid 
himself open to some severe animadversions and criticisms* 
If Burnet could be reached and intimidated, a mighty blow 
would be struck for High Church against Latitudinarian 
ascendency. The attempt should, therefore, be made. The 
Bishops were eager to scold the Presbyters for their unfitting 
conduct ; but let them look to themselves, and see if those 
who had been preferred to high places were not to be found 
wanting even in the very elements of true theology. The 
censure on Burnet's Articles was not difficult to draw up, but 
it would be nothing unless presented to the Bishops, and how 
was this to be accomplished ? The bishops would probably 
receive nothing from their undutiful Presbyters until submis- 
sion were made. They would certainly not receive this if 
they knew beforehand its contents. The Lower House, 
therefore, resorted to stratagem, and certainly their stratagem 
appears to have been somewhat disingenuous. The prolo- 
cutor appeared at the door of the Upper House with a paper, 
which he desired to present. He was told that nothing could 
be received, except an apology, for the late irregularity. He 
was asked whether this paper was of that nature. He said 
that it was * something concerning it.' Upon this he was 
allowed to read the paper, and the astonished Bishops heard 
this exordiurti : — 

* The paper that the Lower House have desired the prolocutor to 
present to your Grace and your lordships is their humble representa- 

^ . Kennctt, «. s. 

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8o Convocation in 1701. April 

tions concerning a book entitled, " An Exposition of the Thirty-nine 
Articles of the Church of Engiandy' and hath no relation to the supposed 
irregularity your Grace and your lordships think fit to complain of; 
of that we are ready to give your lordships satisfaction when thereunto 
called. And in the meantime we most humbly repeat our request 
that your Grace and your lordships will be pleased to receive this 
paper.' ^ 

This was a thunderbolt to the Bishops, and something like 
a studied and public affront. The paper would, no doubts 
have been at once contemptuously refused, but the Bishop of 
Salisbury was not of the mind that it should be. He would 
hear what these arrogant Presbyters ventured to allege against 
him ; and, conscious of his own powers and great facility, he 
anticipated giving them a crushing reply : — 

'They were highly incensed against me,' writes Burnet, *and 
censured my exposition of the Articles, which, in imitation of the 
general impeachments in the House of Commons, they put in three 
;general propositions : First, that it allowed a diversity of opinions, 
which the Articles were framed to avoid ; secondly, that it contained 
jnany passages contrary to the true meaning of the Articles, and to 
♦other received doctrines of our Church ; thirdly, that some things in 
it were of dangerous consequence to the Church, and derogated from 
the honour of the Reformation. What the particulars were to which 
these general heads referred could never be learned ; this was a secret 
lodged in confiding hands. I begged that the Archbishop would dis- 
pense with the order made against further communication with the 
Lower House as to the matter ; but they would enter into no par- 
ticulars, unless they might at the same time offer some other matters 
which the Bishops would not admit of.* ^ 

Content with having thus struck and made uncomfortable 
the most vigorous of their opponents, the Lower House now 
condescended to give some explanation of their irregular pro- 
ceedings. The following represents their view of their rights 
and privileges : — 

* We of the I^ower House, being a distinct House, with a power 
of dissenting from the proposals of the Upper, conceive ourselves 
entirely at liberty to admit of or decline the appointment of com- 
mittees from time to time as we shall see fit. And particularly 
in this case we conceive that the only way of your lordships knowing 
the transactions of this House is by our voluntarily laying them before 
you ; and if your lordships demand the view of the journals as of 
right we are thereby the more obliged to insist on this our liberty. 
That notwithstanding this, the respect and duty we owe to your 
lordships had prevailed with us to have complied with your lordships* 

^ Kennett, Complete Hist. iv. 84a 
* Burnet's Own Time^ p. 691. 

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1 882. Convocation in I'joi. 8i 

proposal, had it not been introduced by what was very surprising, 
namely, your lordships declaring it to be your opinion that whatso- 
ever we had done as an House in any intermediate session between 
April 8 and the said May 8 was of dangerous consequence, not only 
to ourselves, but to the clergy of the province whom we represent. 
These are some of the reasons which, under these circumstances and 
at that time, moved us to decline the appointment of any such com- 
mittee. And these reasons, we presume, had your lordships given us 
occasion to present them, had been sufficient to have cleared us in 
your opinion from any irregularity, and to have prevented you from 
proceeding immediately to any sentence against us, though your 
lordships had conceived that you had such a power. But we cannot 
forbear to represent to your lordships that had we been duly found 
guilty of any irregularity in this matter, yet your lordships' sentence 
cutting off all intercourse and correspondence between the two 
Houses is not only over- severe, being passed on so small an occasion, 
but destroys for the present the whole design and the very being of 
a Convocation.' ^ 

This paper drew forth a long reply from the President and 
Bishops, which censures in severe terms the irregularities of 
the Presbyters, and declares that * until they return to their 
duty they cannot proceed on business with them, nor receive 
anything from them.' The paper also very clearly sets forth 
the true nature of Convocation, which had been so confused 
by Atterbury's mistaken argument as to the Parliamentary 
summons and the Prcemunientes clause : — 

* The whole Convocation is but one body. They meet together 
first in one place before the Archbishop as president, sitting pro tri- 
bunalt, as it is always expressed ; and though afterwards the Lower 
clergy have, by the appointment of the President, a particular place 
assigned to them to treat and debate in apart, yet whenever the 
President pleases they are obliged to return to. the Upper House 
where they first assembled, and both Houses are always continued 
and prorogued by one instrument and act.' ^ 

This, no doubt, is the true doctrine as to the status of 
Convocation ; but it was altogether repudiated by those who 
had been led by Atterbury to look upon themselves as an 
ecclesiastical House of Commons. The strife continued. The 
Bishops voted that the censuring of Bishop Burnet's book 
without alleging particulars was * defamatory and scandalous.' 
They several times demanded the particulars of the charge. 
At length the prolocutor appeared with two papers, and 
oflfered to deliver the one containing the particulars, if also he 
might at the same time deliver the other, which contained a 

Kennett, ii. 842. ^ Ibid. p. 843, 


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82 Convocation in 1701. April 

reply to the Bishops' late censure. The Archbishop would 
only accept the first, and so the prolocutor withdrew without 
presenting either. Soon after this the Convocation was dis- 
solved, together with the Parliament. 

Meantime those who had taken a prominent part in 
these disputes were preparing and pouring forth a perfect 
flood of pamphlets in defence of one or the other of the two 
parties. There was certainly as much (if not more) of ability 
on the side of the moderate men who held with the Bishops 
as on the other side. Gibson, Kennett, and Hody were quite 
a match for Hooper, Atterbury and Binkes. Dr. Hooper, 
the prolocutor, put out a pamphlet called A Narrative of the 
Proceedings of the Lower House of Convocation relating to 
Prorogations and Adjournments, To this Kennett replied in 
a Counter Narrative^ which was eagerly patronized by the 
Bishops. Dr. Gibson on the moderate side published A Letter 
to a Friend in the Country concerning the Proceedings of the 
present Convocation^ and was answered by Atterbury in a 
tract entitled The Power of the Lower House to adjourn 
itself vindicated from the misrepresentations of a late Paper. 
Atterbury writes of this to his friend Bishop Trelawny : * Mn 
Bennet printed 1,500 of the Answers, and they are pretty 
well gone off. Dr. Jane sent for forty of them, but none of 
our other great men here have been pleased to give any 
manner of encouragement to it* ^ In another letter he also 
speaks complainingly of want of support. *What can be 
done by one poor hand and head by the blessing of God 
I will do towards stemming matters. But in the meantime it 
is a little uncomfortable to be left to work alone without any 
assistance, or anybody to bear a part in the same cause.* ^ 
Preparations were now being made for a new Parliament and 
Convocation. In Atterbury's view it was of the utmost im- 
portance that the execution of the Prcemutiientes writ should 
be continued, and that the clergy should be chosen for Con- 
vocation on this Parliamentary basis. This view he 
advocated in z. Letter to a Clergyman in the Country concerning 
the choice of members and the execution of a Parliament writ 
for the ensuing Convocation (dated November 17, 1701), and 
this was followed by a Second Letter on the same subject 

^ Atterbury's Correspondence, iv. 350. It was also answered in A 
Letter to the Author of the Narrative, of which Atterbury says, ' It is 
written very craftily and skilfully and will carry a reputation in the 
world, and by its friends be called unanswerable.'— Ci7/r^j^. iii. 52. 

^ Correspondence, iii. 51. 

» lb. iii. 55. 

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*882. Convocation in I70i» 83 

(December 10, 1701). An answer to these tv^o letters 
quickly appeared under the title, The Case of tlie * Prannu- 
niefites ' considered^ and about the same time, another reply- 
entitled TJu late Pretence of a constant Practice to enter the 
Parliament^ as well as the Provincial Writ in front of the Acts 
of every Synod, Again another, The late Pretence further 
considered. Atterbury responded with A Third Letter to a 
Clergyman in the Country, and his antagonist by an Answer to 
<i Third Letter, &c. And so the strife waxed hot and furious 
through the autumn and winter of 1 701. Atterbury was 
most anxious that those Bishops who had acted under the 
Prcemunientes clause should continue to do so, as he thought 
that this was the real foundation for the liberties of the 
<:Iei^y. He writes to Bishop Trelawny — 

' I humbly beseech your lordship not to let the execution of the 
Praemunientes drop in your diocese. I have considered that matter 
with all the care and application in the world, and whatever thoughts 
other people have of it, am satisfied that it is the only unmoveable 
foundation of the clergy's right to a Parliamentary attendance. 
Upon what your lordship does in this matter will in great measure 
<iepend what the Bishops of London and Rochester shall do.' * 

In spite of the exertions of Atterbury and his friends the 
Convocation which met at the close of 170 1 was not so 
favourable to the claims of the House of Presbyters to act 
independently of the bishops as the former synod had been. 
On January 8, 1702, Atterbury writes : * Our majority in 
Convocation is much sunk to what it was, and there are other 
discouragements both within ourselves and without us.** 
Among these * discouragements ' one of the chief was the 
decided refusal of Dr. Hooper the prolocutor of the late 
Convocation to accept the office again. 

' We had a melancholy prospect last night,' writes Atterbury ; 
■* the old prolocutor absolutely refused to stand ; Dr. Jane was not 
•come up, and we were forced to agree upon the Dean of Sarum 
•(Dr. Woodward), for whom, nevertheless, we carried it by eight votes. 
There were thirty-seven for him, and twenty-nine for Dr. Beveridge. 
We are to present the Dean of Sarum this day fortnight ; which long 
adjournment is not well relished.' ^ 

The Bishops thought to put off the evil day as long as 
possible. On January 13, the meeting of the Synod took 
place in Henry the Seventh's Chapel. 

1 Atterbury to Trelawny, Corresp, iii. 58. 

* Corrcsp. iii. 62. ^ Corresp, iii. 59. 

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84 Convocation in 1701. April 

* The old prolocutor and the new one spoke both like men that 
were willing to heal the breach that had been unhappily made ; and 
the Archbishop answered them as mildly in a long speech full of 
professions of his being willing to forget and forgive, and of 
assurances that the suspicions we had entertained about the Bishops 
were altogether groundless. At the end of his speech he directed 
us to go to the Consistory and call over our House. .We did so, and 
by the time we had done it, Tyllot was there ready with his schedule 
wherein their lordships had adjourned the Convocation from Henry 
VII. Chapel to Jerusalem Chamber. It was insisted that the pro- 
locutor should read this schedule as a message from the Archbishop. 
We at last agreed that the actuary should read it as a paper, not as 
a schedule. After it was read many were for going out, as having 
sufficient notice of the Archbishop's adjournment. But at last they 
Avere prevailed with to stay. Then the debate rose whether we 
should adjourn in the style of the schedule to Jerusalem Chamber, 
or in hunc lociim. The dispute held an hour or more, and at last it 
was agreed to adjourn in the style of the schedule to Jerusalem 
Chamber, Avith a salvo jure' * 

If this arrangement led any of the moderate party to think 
that now peace was likely to ensue, they were quickly unde- 
ceived. On January 18, Atterbury moved that the phrase in 
which the prorogation of the Lower House was entered in 
the minutes should be changed. Hitherto the phrase had 
been Prolocutor ijitimavit hanc Convocationeni esse continua- 
tarn. In place of this was now substituted Dominus Prolocutor 
continuavit et prorogavit quoad hanc domuni ; thus distinctly 
attributing the power of prorogation to the prolocutor, and 
implying the independence of the Lower House at the next 
session ; the Archbishop's writ of prorogation was merely laid 
on the table as though a matter with which the Lower House 
had no special concern. The prolocutor notified the adjourn- 
ment as from himself, and the new phrase was entered in the 
minutes. Then the Bishops' party indignantly protested, and 
moved to have their protest entered on the minutes. A fierce 
debate followed ; Dr. Beveridge endeavoured to heal the 
strife, and it ended as these debates so often do, in the 
appointment of a committee. The committee, which was 
fairly constituted, recommended a middle course, namely^ 
that the ancient form of prorogation should be used, but that, 
the House need not be adjourned till the business of the day 

^ Atterbury to Trelawny, Corresp. iv. 342. The comparatively 
peaceful termination of the dispute was greatly due to the solemn words 
uttered by Beveridge, ' Mr. Prolocutor, I call upon you, in the name of 
Jesus Christ, not to open our first meeting in such contempt and dis- 
obedience to the Archbishop and Bishops, and in giving such offence and 
scandal to our enemies.' — Gibson MSS, Lathbury, p. 365. 

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1 882. Convocation in 1701. 85 

was over. The happy device of the via media proved, as is 
too often the case, abortive. Both sides claimed the victory, 
and acrimonious disputes, protests, and declarations were rife. 
Meantime the prolocutor, falling ill, appointed a deputy to act 
for him. 

At Atterbury*s suggestion Dean Aldrich was selected for 
this office. The moderate party hearing of this at once 
declared that reference must be made to the Archbishop, 
Some members were hastening off to do this. Others were 
trying to hinder them. A tumultuary scene arose in Henry the 
Seventh's Chapel. Aldrich proceeded to read prayers, which 
for a moment stilled the excitement. Immediately after 
prayers were ended, Kennett moved that a message should be 
sent to the President. Aldrich himself appears to have moved 
* that the sub-prolocutor should take the chair.' This was 
carried by acclamation, and he took the chair. Then arose 
a shout of the out-voted party that he * had no right to the 
chair till confirmed,' and a body of the Bishops' men rushed 
off to the Jerusalem Chamber, where the Bishops were met 
The Archbishop hearing of the occurrence at once formally 
summoned the Lower House to Jerusalem Chamber. *An 
incident of great moment has happened,' he said ; * we must 
take time to consider it ; the Convocation is prorogued till 
Saturday, February 14.' This was a sudden and heavy blow, 
but Atterbury was not inclined to yield. He shouted to his 
brethren as they left the Jerusalem Chamber to come back to 
their own House. Some he even pushed bodily before him.* 
He succeeded in getting together forty-two, who were ready 
to defy the Archbishop's prorogation, and to act in absolute 
independence. But now these turmoils received a terrible 
and startling rebuke. The very next day the prolocutor 
died. He appears to have been a litigious man, and was 
involved in strife with his Bishop (Burnet). Probably he had 
been selected for his office on this very account His death 
was a heavy blow to the High Church party. Without a 
head they could make no stand. On their own principles 
their House was incomplete and incompetent to act And 
they had good reason to think that the Archbishop would not 
be above taking advantage of the opportunity. The way 
indeed in which he received the intelligence of Dr. Wood- 
ward's death was somewhat shocking. 'Brethren of the 
Clergy, I hear the prolocutor is dead, and we are very 
inuch surprised at the news of it We must consider what is 

* Lathburfs Convocation^ p. 370, note. 

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86 Convocation in 1701. April 

proper to be done on this occasion/ ^ It certainly did not 
seem to require much consideration to decide that the House 
having unhappily lost its prolocutor should be directed to 
choose another. But this was not the view of Tenison, 
Burnet, and the Bishops. Their enemies were delivered into 
their hands and they would hold them captive. No pro- 
locutor should be chosen, but the Convocation should be 
prorogued from time to time, so that in case of emergency it 
might be summoned. * There was a consult of Bishops held 
upon this point this morning,' writes Atterbury, * and their 
opinion was that we should not be allowed to choose any.' * 
This was flat tyranny. Atterbury at once published a 
pamphlet reflecting on such an unjust method of treatment* 
The Archbishop seems to have sent the members of the Lower 
House away with the cynical recommendation that they 
should go to their cures and catechize their people in prepara- 
tion for Easter.'* Some forty-five members, led by Atterbury^ 
refused to submit to this. They met in Henry the Seventh's 
Chapel, and debated, choosing a chairman or moderator. Some 
were for choosing a prolocutor on their own responsibility ; 
some for making a remonstrance to the Archbishop by a 
member deputed for that purpose ; others, as Atterbury,. 
for making a formal protest subscribed by all their names, 
and offering this to the Upper House for entering in their 
journals. If it should be refused it might be entered on the 
books of the Lower House and picblished. From this bold 
step the majority of the members, however, shrank,^ and the 
oral remonstrance was determined on. Archdeacon Drewe 
was appointed to make this, and on March 3, when the 
Archbishop's commissary (Gardiner, Bishop of Lincoln) came 
to the Jerusalem Chamber to further prorogue the Convoca- 
tion, he attempted to do this. Difficulties immediately arose. 
The commissary said the protest must be made in writing,, 
and then a dispute began between the members of the Lower 
House who were thronging the ante-chamber of the Jerusalem 
Chamber, on the point in whose name it was to be drawn — in 
the name of the House or in the name of certain members ? 
Before this was settled the commissary had finished his 
business and disrobed. He consented, however, afterwards, to 
receive the message in his private capacity, and to convey it 

^ Kennett's Complete Hist, iii. 847. 
^ Atterbury to Trelawny, Corresp. iii. 75. 

^ A faithful Accoimt of some Transactions in the three last Sessions of 

* lb, p. 77. * lb, p. 8a 

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1882. Convocation in lyoj. 87 

to his Grace,^ Nothing, however, came of this, and the King's 
death occurring within three days afterwards, the lawyers 
held that Convocation was thereby dissolved.^ The High 
Church clergy were no doubt well consoled for the harsh 
measures of Tenison by the reflection that in the Princess 
who now succeeded to the throne they were certain of a good 
friend. Thus Atterbury, discussing the situation to his clergy 
at Totnes, could say with calmness, that though the death of 
the prolocutor had been 'laid hold of in order to perplex 
affairs, and hinder the Convocation from proceeding to busi- 
ness, yet, God be thanked, we have a gracious Queen on 
the throne, who we are sure will be so far from doing any 
harm to the Church that she will not in her time suffer any 
to be done to it.' ^ The strife, however, had many more years 
to run, and Atterbury many more battles to fight. High 
Church and Low Church continued to contend all through 
the reign of Queen Anne, though the former usually pre- 
served the ascendency. The accumulated bitterness of the 
long contention was at length discharged in the fierce per- 
sonalities of the Bangorian controversy. P>om that period 
the struggle absolutely ceases and continues in abeyance until 
quite modern times. 

To the disputes of 170 1 we owe the text book of the pro- 
cedure in our Convocations, Gibson's Synodus Anglicana, and 
the practical settling by it of the questions then raised. Atter- 
bury's view as to the Parliamentary character of the Lower 
House was finally demolished by Wake in his learned folio, 
published in 1703, and has never since reappeared. But though 
Atterbury may have been mistaken in his historical views, he 
did good service for the Church in his day. He showed to the 
State authorities who ignored it, and to the Whig Bishops who 
oppressed it, that the Church of England had its rights and 
privileges and was not content to forego them. He evoked a 
strong and vigorous Church spirit, which, though deeply 
tinged with secular influences, and not built altogether on 
true Church principles, nevertheless by its vigour, and the 
considerable amount of truth which it held, served to repress 
and shame the fawning of an Erastian subserviency. He put 

^ Atterbury, Corresp, iii. 86. Kennett, iii. 840. 

^ This opinion was a good deal questioned. Atterbury and his party 
held that, the clergy being summoned to attend Parliament under the 
PrcBtnunientes clause, their assembly continued as long as the Parliament, 
which by a special Act was continued after the King's death. But the 
lawyers were agreed that this act did not include Convocation, which 
was called by a different writ and had a different constitution. 

* Charge to Archdeaconry of Totnes, Corresp, ii. 217. 

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88 Tfie Rise of Buddhism. April 

in motion a power which, continually gathering strength and 
momentum, presently, in the time of Sacheverell, scattered a 
Whig Ministry like a pack of cards, and proved to statesmen 
for ever that the Church of England, once thoroughly roused 
and united, is an overwhelming influence in the State, and 
that it cannot be safely oppressed beyond a certain limit. So 
powerful indeed was the championship of this talented man, 
who was first called to the front in this Convocation con- 
troversy, that it was found in the era of the first George that 
the King's government could not be carried on unless he were 
either bought or ruined. The first expedient was tried and 
failed. The second was then resorted to, and succeeded but 
too well. 

Art. v.— the RISE OF BUDDHISM. 

1. The History of Antiquity. From the German of Professor 

Max Duncker. By Evelyn Abbott, M.A., LL.D., 
Fellow and Tutor of Balliol College, Oxford. Vol. IV. 
(London, 1880.) 

2. Buddhism : being a Sketch of the Life and Teachings of 

Gautama the Buddha, By T. W. Rhys Davids, of the 
Middle Temple, Barrister-at-Law, and late of the Ceylon 
Civil Service. With Map. (London, 1880.) 

3. The Hibbert Lectures ^i^^i. — Lectures on the Origin and 

Growth of Religion, as illustrated by some points in the 
History of Indian Buddhism. By T. W. RHYS DAVIDS. 
(London, 1881.) 

4. Buddhist Birth Stories ; or^ JAtaka Tales. Being the 

Jatakatthavannand. For the first time edited in the 
original Pili, by V. Fausboll, and translated by 
T. W. Rhys Davids. Translation, Vol. I. (London, 

5. The Sacred Books of the East Translated by various 

Oriental scholars and edited by F. Max MiJLLER. Vol. 

X. Part I. Tlie Dhammapada. A Collection of Verses^ 
being one of the Canonical Books of the Buddhists, 
Translated from the Pdli by F. Max MUller. Part II. 
Tlie Sutta Nipdta. Translated by V. Fausb5ll. Vol. 

XI. Buddhist Suttas from the Pdli. Translated by 
T. W. Rhys Davids. (Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1881.) 

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i882. The Rise of Buddhism. 89 

6. The Vinaya Pitakant, one of the Principal Buddhist Holy 
Scriptures in the PAH Language. Edited by HERMANN 
Oldenberg. Vol.1. The Mahdvagga. (London, 1879.) 

Amongst the various forms of religion to which attention has 
been called in recent years, there is not one that can show a 
stronger claim to be made a subject of inquiry and reflection 
than Buddhism, nor is there one more fruitful in revelations, 
whether to the student of the history of philosophy, or to the 
student of humanity, or to the believer in the Christian 
religion, or to that very modern phenomenon the soi-disant 
impartial student of religion in general. The inquirer whose 
aim it is to trace the development of human thought will be 
rewarded by finding beneath the rubbish-heaps of later accre- 
tions a marvellous insight into moral truth. He will be 
startled to find in one of the aspects of Buddhism a theory of 
the universe, formulated five centuries before the Christian era, 
which presents a singular parallel to one of the latest products 
of German philosophy. Side by side with that theory he will 
be no less surprised to find ideas which are not merely re- 
flected in the Agnosticism and the Positivism of to-day, but 
are amongst their very watchwords or the mottoes inscribed 
upon the banners and the shields of their champions. 

To the thoughtful Christian who anticipates with prayerful 
hope the subjugation of the world to the obedience of Christ, 
Buddhism should be a subject of uncommon interest. When 
he learns its past conquests and appreciates the extent of its 
present sway, n^zxly five hundred milliojis of human beings, or 
about one-third of the human race being, with whatever incon- 
sistencies, its adherents, he will seek to know the secret of its 
power. A twofold inquiry will seem forced upon him. He 
will ask, in the first place, what causes can be assigned for 
its rise and early progress. It will be our aim in this paper 
to make it clear that modem scholarship supplies a fairly 
satisfactory answer to this question. In the second place, he 
will ask why it is that this product of Indian civilization has 
been able to hold its ground against Christianity, whereas 
Brahmanism, the parent and the rival of Buddhism, though 
after an internecine struggle it remained master of the Indian 
territory, is now, as Professor Max Miiller tells us, only the 
lingering shell of a religion, a mere body of superstitions 
clung to by the uneducated, and whereas the religions asso- 
ciated with the higher civilizations of Greece and Roaie, and 
reflected in the masterpieces of the world's literature, have 
utterly perished before the banner of the Cross. 

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90 The Rise of Buddhism. April 

Our present purpose being to speak chiefly of early 
Buddhism, we must forego any lengthened discussion of the 
second of these questions, notwithstanding its vast practical 
importance. We are bound, however, to suggest that in so 
far as the question is not answered by the intrinsic excellence 
and the missionary spirit of Buddhism, it raises the doubt 
whether, with some splendid exceptions, modern missionary 
enterprise has been, at any rate until recent times, in any par- 
ticular excepting zeal, worthy of its task ; whether the full 
strength of the Church has been put forth to grapple with 
that task ; whether the representatives of Christianity have 
set about the task in the right way ; whether instead of pre- 
senting the grand Christian creed in its entirety, they have 
not carried into those distant lands their narrow and exclusive 
habit of magnifying, out of all proportion, separate and some- 
times minor points of doctrine, or even of opinion — a habit 
which explains that mutual contradiction between Christian 
teachers that forms a notorious stumbling-block to the alien ; 
whether, finally, they have not too often failed to exhibit a 
due measure of that large intellectual as well as emotional 
sympathy which constitutes an essential element of missionary 
success. Our own generation has seen, we are aware, vast 
improvements in this department of religious effort, and from 
various quarters testimony is received of the devotion, self- 
denial, tact, and other noble qualities of the missionary band> 
whose labours in sowing the seed, we doubt not, will in due 
time be rewarded by an abundant harvest. 

If the want of sympathy in past days might find some 
excuse in the ignorance that concealed from the Christian 
teacher the moral excellences, the noble truths, which are 
enshrined in other systems and which might furnish ground 
common to himself and those whom he sought to win as sub- 
jects of his Divine Master, that excuse will avail no longer. 
Modern erudition and enterprise have brought or are bringing 
to our hands in English dress the religious books of the world, 
and he who is preparing to labour in the mission field may 
start with advantages undreamt of before. And what should 
be his attitude, with regard to the religious and moral truth 
that exists outside the borders of the Christian Church } Of 
course we only smile at the idea of the ancient Christian 
writer who concluded that the Devil had originated a counter- 
feit presentment of the truth for the purpose of hindering the 
progress of the truth itself, or even at the less grotesque but 
certainly erroneous idea of other writers, both ancient and 
comparatively modern, that the truths found elsewhere must 

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i882. The Rise of Buddhism. 91 

have been derived from Holy Scripture. Educated thought 
has abandoned such views as these : what ought to be main- 
tained in their stead ? It seems to us that while the Christian 
ought to recognize with the fullest sympathy whatever 
excellence he may find in any quarter whatsoever, he should 
at the same time stoutly assert that true Christianity alone 
sums up all the truths spiritual or moral that exist dispersedly 
elsewhere, that it alone presents them in fitting mutual pro- 
portion, and knows the secret of reconciling the most exalted 
spiritual aspirations and conceptions with the most energetic 
practical life. Bishop Pearson, it will be remembered, sum- 
marizes his explanation of the Catholic character of the 
Church in the following words : — 

* Wherefore I conclude that this Catholicism, or second afTectioni 
of the Church, consisteth generally in universalit)% as embracing all 
sorts of persons, as to be disseminated through all nations, as com- 
prehending all ages, as containing all necessary and saving truths, as 
obliging all conditions of men to all kind of obedience, as curing all 
diseases, and planting all graces, in the souls of men.' ^ 

This, and not the denial of independent excellence elsewhere,, 
should be the leading principle of the Christian's treatment of 
other religions. But, far as we are from believing that God 
left himself without witness elsewhere, both external and 
internal, both in nature and in conscience, we maintain that 
the course of religious development that culminated in 
Christianity has worked out in so unique a manner, through 
so unique a history, and with such exceptional benefits to man- 
kind, so exalted a scheme of theology and morals, so perfect 
a combination of faith, hope, and charity, as can only be 
accounted for by special Divine guidance, in one word — by 

The compelling force of this argument is, unfortunately, 
not universally admitted. This leads us to remark upon an 
additional motive for making closer acquaintance with the 
principles of early Buddhism. Those who regard all religions 
alike as the natural product of the human mind, as merely the 
various forms into which, under varying circumstances, primi- 
tive illusions have developed, invite us to see a specially in- 
structive parallel between Buddhism and Christianity. The 
challenge is one which the Christian teacher ought not alto- 
gether to decline. If our contention is true, the parallel will 
indeed prove instructive, but in the opposite sense to that 
which is intended. From the perusal of a warmly sympa-^ 

^ See Exposition of the Creed^ art. ix. 

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92 The Rise of Buddhism. April 

thetic account of early Buddhism, such, for example, as that 
furnished in the Hibbert Lectures for last year by the well- 
known Pdli scholar Mr. (now Dr.) Rhys Davids, the inquirer 
will rise, we believe, confirmed in his conviction that the 
subtlest human reason, the concentrated thought of a nation 
absorbed beyond all other nations in the religious problem, 
could never * by searching find out God,' or, in more philoso- 
phical phrase, could not even formulate a tolerable account 
of man's relation to the universe. 

The rise of Buddhism cannot be understood unless we can 
represent to ourselves, even imperfectly, the earlier condi- 
tion and fortunes and some mental conceptions of the 
people amongst whom it rose. In the following remarks we 
shall take chiefly as our guide Professor Max Duncker, who, 
in his History of Antiquity, has in the most masterly manner 
gathered for us the fruits of other men's labours, and focussed 
the scattered lights which they have thrown upon special 
departments of inquiry. His work is a monument of patient 
ingenuity. In the part before us he had to tell the story, 
extending over two thousand years, of that branch of our own 
great Aryan race which is specially distinguished from all 
other branches by its marvellous development of philosophic 
and religious thought alongside of a total neglect of history. 
*The Indians,' he says, *have not written their history, 
because at a very early period they began to dedicate their 
lives to the future world.' ^ ' Neither prince nor people show 
the least interest in preserving the memory of their actions or 
fortunes. No other nation has been so late in recording their 
traditions.' ^ 

The history had then to be pieced together out of the 
' remains of poetry and the wreck of literature,' with the aid 
of such side lights, scanty and obscure, as might be derived 
from other sources. Professor Max Duncker relies, it is true, 
upon Burnouf and other writers, who preceded the recent 
development of Pdli scholarship, and the fuller knowledge 
which in consequence of it we are now obtaining of the actual 
contents of the Buddhist sacred literature ; ^ but this fact does 

^ The History of Antiquity y vol iv. p. 555. ^ Ibid, p. 27. 

^ The relation of Pali to Buddha and of the Pili sacred texts to pri- 
mitive Buddhism would scarcely interest all readers ; but it ought not to 
be entirely passed over. We therefore introduce here a few remarks upon 
it, in part extracted and summarized from Dr. Hermann Oldenberg's 
Introduction to his edition of The Vinaya Pitaka^ p. xlviii seq. With 
regard to the contents and the style of representation, the Pili version 
has hitherto shown itself to be the most original, if not the original, yersion 
of the Buddhist canonical scriptures. In regard to dialect, however, it 

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i882. The Rise of Buddhism. 93 

not detract from the general accuracy of the picture which he 
draws of the state of society in which Buddhism took its rise, 
nor as a matter of fact do we find him very far wrong in his 
account of early Buddhism, when we check his statements 
by comparison with those of later authorities. The chief 
point in which a difference may be seen — and it is one that 
we shall do well to note — is that he does not appreciate at its 
full value the extraordinary excellence of the practical ethics 
which are interwoven with Buddhism. 

It will be convenient to follow Professor Max Duncker 
in designating the Aryan population of India by the term 

The Aryas entered India from the north-west, and occu- 
pied at first the valley of the Indus and its tributary streams. 
The earliest historical notice from which their presence there 
can be inferred is the brief but significant mention in the 
Bible (i Kings ix. 26-28, and x. 11, 12, and 22) of the 
nautical enterprise undertaken by King Solomon in conjunc- 
tion with the Phoenician king of Tyre. The expedition sailed 
from Elath at the head of the eastern arm of the Red Sea, 
and returned after an absence of three years, bringing gold, 
silver, precious stones, ivory, apes, peacocks, and 'almug' 

certainly differs from the original text. The fundamental constituent 
parts of the original text were undoubtedly fixed in the kingdom of Ma* 
gadha, on the central Ganges, and in the Mdgadhi language ; but Fill 
is, as undoubtedly, not identical with Migadhi. There is not the smallest 
room. Dr. Oldenberg says, for doubt on the latter point, in regard to 
which, therefore, Professor Max Duncker must be in error in asserting 
their identity. (History of Antiquity^ vol. iv. p. 285.) 

Now the CuUa-Vagga, which is a part of the Vinaya Pitaka, informs us 
that Buddha decreed that every one should learn the sacred texts in his 
own language. Hence, as Dr. Oldenberg infers, at the first spread of 
Buddhism, the texts were communicated in the different vernacular dia- 
lects of different districts, and, consequently, if at that time they had 
reached Ceylon, from whence we get them, they would have been in the 
Old Sinhalese. But the Tripitaka was transplanted to Ceylon at a time 
when the tradition of the holy texts had lost that elasticity which allowed 
every one to take Buddha's words and adapt them to his own language. 
Ceylon, therefore, must have received the sacred traditions in the lan- 
guage of that part of India from which the Tripitaka was brought over 
to the island, and in this same language — which, consequently, became 
the sacred language of the Buddhist community in Ceylon — the Sinhalese 
continued to propagate the tradition. This language is the Pali. 

To what part, then, of India, did the Pdli originally belong, and from 
whence did it spread to Ceylon ? 

Following two lines of investigation, historical tradition and the witness 
of inscriptions. Dr. Oldenberg arrives at the conclusions that the Pali 
home was south of the Vindhya mountains, and that the naturalization 
of the whole great Buddhist literature in Ceylon was a gradual result of 
intercourse with the neighbouring continent. 

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94 '^f^ Ri^^ of Buddhism. April 

trees, that is sandal-wood. Now the Hebrew words for 
*apes/ * peacocks/ and * sandal- wood * are by origin Sanskrit, 
Avhile the things denoted, as well as ivory, are products 
of India, peacocks and sandal-wood being products of 
no other country. Hence it follows that the Aryas were 
settled in the land of the Indus before i,ooo B.C. From the 
mention of gold, which might have been brought from the 
upper Indus, it is inferred that there was a regular traffic from 
the inland country to the coast ; and from the fact that 
vandal-wood only flourishes in the tropical land of Malabar, 
there is a similar inference with regard to traffic with south- 
western India. These inferences with regard to traffic, com- 
bined with the fact mentioned above, that certain products 
•of India are exported under names which the Aryas have 
igiven them, imply a long-standing settlement of these tribes. 
Other facts enable us to draw the very probable conclusion 
that they entered India about 2,000 B.C. 

It was while the Aryas were as yet confined to the region 
of the Panjab, the land of ' the five rivers,' and the western 
■district of India on the Indus, that the greater number of the 
songs of the Rig- Veda were composed ; and it is from these 
poems that the character, the political and social arrange- 
ments, and the religious conceptions, of the nation in this its 
first Indian home are to be gathered. There is a very marked 
contrast between the spirit of healthy vigorous life that 
breathes in these early poems and that melancholy, that life- 
weariness, of a later time, when the country about the Ganges 
had been conquered, and the exciting struggle of the great 
war for supremacy between different Aryan tribes, or rather 
for the possession of a district on the central Ganges, had 
been replaced by a time of comparative peace. In the earlier 
songs, beneath all the differences of detail that separate the 
•early Indie thought from its nearest relative, that of eastern 
Iran, and still more from that in more distant Aryan nations, 
we still recognize that full pulse of martial courage, of ex- 
ultation in battle and in life, with which we are familiar in 
other early Aryan literature. It is difficult to see in the 
Bengali of to-day a scion of the same great race to which 
his conquerors belong ; but we recognize the brethren of Hel- 
lenes and of Northmen in the men whose minstrels sang of 
* war-chariots and infantry, standard-bearers, bows, spears, 
swords, axes, and trumpets.* We can almost fancy it is a fellow- 
tribesman of some of our own fierce ancestors who sings : — 

* There appears like the lustre of a cloud when the mailed warrior 
stalks into t'le heart of the combat . . . With the bow may we 

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i882. The Rise of Buddhism. 95 

conquer cattle ; with the bow may we conquer in the struggle for the 
mastery, and in the sharp conflicts. , . . The bowstring approaches 
close to the bowman's ear, as if to speak to or embrace a dear friend. 
, . . Standing on the chariot, the skilful charioteer directs the horses 
whithersoever he wills. . . . The strong-hoofed steeds, rushing on with 
the chariots, utter shrill neighings ; trampling the foe with their hoofs, 
they crush them, never receding.' ^ 

There cannot be a greater contrast than that between the 
tumultuous joy in life and action disclosed in the Rig-Veda 
and that dreary pessimism, that dwelling on the dark side of 
things, which lies at the root of primitive Buddhism. Even 
the undeniable excellences of Buddhism can only be under- 
stood when viewed in the light which this fact throws upon 
them. To sum up, very briefly and broadly, the character of 
Buddhism, we may perhaps regard it as an attempt, it may be 
the noblest attempt possible under the circumstances, to pro- 
vide a support under the sorrows of humanity, and at the 
same time to elevate and to satisfy the moral sense ; to 
render life more tolerable by the repression of selfishness and 
the development of sympathy and mutual helpfulness; in 
short, partly by denial, partly by modification of the dominant 
spiritual conceptions, partly by the adoption of the most re- 
fined ethic, to make the best out of despair, at a time when, 
to quote Professor Max Duncker's words, * under the most 
smiling sky, in the midst of a luxuriant vegetation, was en- 
throned a melancholy, gloomy, monastic view of the absolute 
corruption of the flesh, the misery of life on earth.' * 

Whatever other causes may have co-operated to produce 
the contrast between the Aryas of the Panjab and their 
descendants in the states of the Ganges, causes whose influ- 
ence we cannot estimate with precision, such as a change of 
diet, two causes undoubtedly operated with much eff'ect, viz. 
the more enervating climate and the religious system elabo- 
rated by the Brahmans, including in that system the oppres- 
sive and injurious restrictions of caste with its subordinate 
tyrannies, that of the Brahman and that of the king. 

The reader who desires to follow a connected account, the 
best that can be had where history there is none, of the steps 
by which the Aryas reached the conditions in the midst of 
which the founder of Buddhism was born, must be referred to 
Professor Max Duncker's own pages. It is there described 
how, after the conquest of the land of the upper Ganges, 

> Quoted from Muir's Sanskrit Texts^ ' Rigveda.' See T/ie History 
cf Antiquity y vol. iv. p. 35. 

* See Tlie History of Antiquity ^ vol. iv. p. 546. 

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96 The Rise of Buddhism. April 

which may have been completed about 1400 B.C., the immr- 
grant tribes grew into nations and monarchies were set up ; 
how the martial spirit which had carried forward their con- 
quering arms expressed itself subsequently in the narrative of 
the great war, * the Epos of the Indians,' the Mahabharata, 
which, along with the later Ramayanay is still a source of 
endless pleasure to the people;^ how the three primitive 
classes, the sacrificing minstrels, the fighters, the agriculturists, 
with the addition of a fourth class, the remnant of the con- 
quered non-Aryan tribes, became separated by insuperable 
barriers into the four castes, the Brahmans, the Kshatryias, 
the Vaisyas, and the Sudras, to one or other of which all the 
later divisions trace their origin. 

The precise year in which the founder of Buddhism was 
born cannot be ascertained. Dr. Rhys Davids, relying chiefly 
upon Pdli accounts, an authority not absolutely conclusive, nor 
indeed quite self-consistent, places it between the middle and 
end of the sixth century B.C., an estimate which most probably 
does not err in regard to being too early. We may therefore 
assume it as definitely established that he was born in the 
midst of those conditions which Professor Max Duncker 
describes as characteristic of the Aryas on the upper Ganges 
in the sixth century. At this time the people suffered under 
grievous oppression. Royalty, provided that it respected the 
superior caste of the Brahmans, was upheld by them, and sub- 
mission to it was inculcated in their teaching. The kings lived 
in luxury and splendour, though they were only monarchs of 
petty states, and often inflicted cruel and barbarous punish- 
ments for trivial offences. Besides this, they taxed their 
subjects without mercy. The caste system in its main outlines 
was rigidly established, and the accident of birth determined 
each man's career in life as in an iron groove. The enervating 
influence of climate had repressed any tendencies to effective 
resistance on the part of those who suffered from the oppres- 
sion of their rulers, while the common bond that united the 
first three castes against the aliens of the fourth had con- 
tributed to the riveting of the chains which separated those 
castes from one another. 

Were there any consolations of religion ? Was there in 
the Indian conception of the universe and its government 

* * At all festivals and fairs . . . episodes from one of the two poems 
are recited to the eager crowd of assembled hearers ; the audience 
accompany the acts and sufferings of the heroes with cries of joy, or 
signs of sorrow, with laughter or tears.' — The History of Antiquity ^ vol. iv. 
p. 109. 

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1 882. Tlie Rise of Buddhism. 97 

anything corresponding to the patient trust of the Hebrew — 
the confidence in God, the belief in the All-powerful, All- 
holy Friend of every one who sought to live holily — which, 
out of the bitterest and darkest of human suffering, could 
distil sweetness and light ; the belief that could lead a man to 
exclaim, * Unto the godly there ariseth up light in the dark- 
ness.' There was nothing of the kind. The fundamental 
article of the Brahmanic creed had an influence clearly contrary 
to that which supported the pious Israelite, and which created 
national heroes and raised up teachers of the world amongst 
his people. In spite of our fuller knowledge of the highest 
points reached in Indian religious thought, and of its many 
■excellences, in spite of our wonder at its marvellous subtlety, 
our admiration of the depth of its philosophic penetration, it 
still is true that when we pass from Indian ideas of God and 
man's relation to Him to the perusal of a page of the Psalms, 
the sensation is like that of exchanging the unwholesome 
atmosphere of the jungle for the pure air of the mountain 
height, of exchanging the gloomy canopy of the one for the 
unclouded heaven of the other. 

If to those dwellers by the Ganges life in its secular 
departments was a burden, the religion of the Brahmans, so 
far from bringing present consolation and the cheering hope 
of future redress, added pitilessly to the painfulness of the 
burden and seemed to crush the soul with the prospect of its 
-endlessness. For the speculative reason had arrived by steps 
which we cannot now discuss at the conception that the basis 
and origin of all things is an impersonal Being, the one 
permanent existence, from whom all other beings are emana- 
tions which must undergo a ceaseless succession of transient 
•existences, until they attain, if they ever do attain, final repose 
and unconsciousness by absorption into Deity. In each of his 
existences the man was supposed to be reaping the due reward 
of his past deeds. There was but one way to escape from the 
endless chain of miser}'', a way which few could or would 
practise. Severe self-mortification, carried to such an extent 
as practically to annihilate the body, might result in the 
annihilation of the soul, or rather in its absorption through 
meditation into Brahma. There is of course some truth as to 
the value of self-discipline and abstinence underlying these 
views. We cannot, however, now pause to separate the grain 
from the chaff. For all who did not choose the path laid 
down, for all who failed in it through the faltering of resolution, 
through error, through neglect of minute ritual observance, 
each successive existence was only a further descent into 

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98 The Rise of Buddhism. April 

misery, a further removal from the final goal. Time itself 
was in the scale against a man. A single lifetime might 
require several succeeding lives for its expiation, each bringing 
its own liability of becoming the parent of another series. 
There was no pity, no mercy in the government of the world* 
only at the best an awful kind of justice, if indeed that could 
be called justice, which visited offences often trivial, often 
even unavoidable, such as breaches of the laws of purification^ 
with such terrible penalties. 

There are points in which Dr. Rhys Davids is not quite 
in accord with Professor Max Duncker. He thinks, for ex- 
ample, that the caste system was neither so rigidly established 
nor really so oppressive as is represented by the Professor 
and others ; and we are aware that there is some foundation 
for this view.* We have, therefore, the more satisfaction in 
supporting our statement of the terrible aspect of the Indian 
religion by a quotation from Dr. Rhys Davids's latest expo- 
sition of early Buddhism. Speaking of the regeneration of 
living beings he tells us that the founder of Buddhism found 
something like this the accepted belief: — 

* The outward condition of the soul is in each new birth deter- 
mined by its actions in a previous birth ; but by each action in 
succession, and not by tjie balance struck after the evil has been 
reckoned off against the good. ... A robber who has once done an 
act of mercy, may come to life in a king's body as the result of his 
virtue, and then suffer torments for ages in hell, or as a ghost without 
a body, or be re-born many times as a slave or an outcast, in conse- 
quence of his evil life.' ^ 

But here it is to be remarked that Brahmanism has never 
been an organized religion.^ Here is the explanation of the 
fact that thought was absolutely free, as Dr. Rhys Davids 
tells us, in ancient India. Brahmanism is capable of taking 

^ See the Hibbert Lectures for i88r, pp. 22-25. See also the remarks 
on caste in his Address to the University of Calcutta by Sir Henry 
Sumner Maine, in the volume entitled Village Communities^ p. 219. Sir 
Henry's contention is that the Brahmanic literature is not a trustworthy 
authority as to the prevalence of caste or of other institutions. Professor 
Max Miiller, it may be remembered, regards as an essential feature of 
Buddhism that it was a reaction against caste, and this view can be sup- 
ported by many passages from the earliest Buddhist books. On the whole, 
it seems clear that the region which was the theatre of Gotaraa's teaching 
was the head-quarters of Brahmanism, and that the caste system had 
acquired at that period a rigidity in this region which was lacking else- 

* See Hibbert Lectures, pp. 84-86. 

' See The History 0/ Antiquity, vol. iv. p. 463, and Sir H. S. Maine's 
Village Communities, pp. 216, 217. 

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i882. The Rise of Buddhism. 99 

up and adapting new and inconsistent elements when they 
become sufficiently prevalent. There is no doubt that this 
was the case to some extent with Brahmanism after the rise 
of Buddhism, in spite of the fact that the two religions were 
eventually seen to be so incompatible, that in self-preservation 
Brahmanism actually expelled its rival from its original home. 
With this, however, we are not now concerned. The point we 
have to note is that it was no unheard-of phenomenon when 
Gotama, son of the petty chief Suddhodana, came forward as 
the expounder of a better system than that of the Brahmans. 
How much of early Buddhism was actually due to him, how 
much he owed to philosophic thinkers who preceded him, in 
decrying, for example, the importance of ritual and exalting 
that of moral conduct,^ are questions more easily asked than, 
answered. One point, however, is as certain as any in this 
case can be. The founder of Buddhism owed his success in 
some measure to his having struck out a new path in regard 
to the method of his teaching and the audiences whom he 
addressed. Like a greater than he, he addressed the multi- 
tudes, and like Him too he employed popular methods, such 
as the parable, as the vehicle of his instruction. Among the 
Jdtaka Tales, an instalment of which, with an interesting and 
scholarly Introduction, has already been published by Dr. 
Rhys Davids, it is very possible that we have some examples 
of that ' good-natured humour which led to his (Buddha's) 
inventing as occasion arose some fable or some tale of a 
previous birth, to explain away existing failures in conduct 
among the monks, or to draw a moral from contemporaneous 
events.' ^ And the many elaborate similes which enforce the 
arguments in the Pdli Stittas leave no reasonable doubt that 
he *was really accustomed to teach much by the aid of 

The fact that he did choose to popularize his doctrine, 
that he did thus address himself to the multitudes, throws a 
welcome light upon Buddha's personal character. Through 
the darkness of our ignorance as to anything beyond the 
most meagre details of his life, through the mist of legend 
with which the enthusiasm of his followers surrounded his 
personality, through the confusion of modern theorizers, who 

^ Some even of the Buddhistic teaching that bears the closest resem- 
blance to the precepts of Christianity was perhaps inculcated, though only 
occasionally and not consistently, by some of the Brahmans of Buddha's 
time ; the duty, for example, of overcoming evil by good. See ydtaka 
Tales, or Buddhist Birth Stori^ts, Introduction, pp. xxvii, xxviii. 

* Jdtaka Tales, vol. i., Introduction, p. Ixxxiv. See 2iX%p^The History 

of Antiquity, wo\.'\w,^. '^S9' 

H 2 

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lOo The Rise of Buddhism. April 

have seen in the founder of Buddhism the originator of what 
they are pleased to call the higher Judaism and the higher 
Christianity,^ we catch a glimpse of one who, born a prince, 
sympathized with the sorrows and the moral struggles of the 
meanest ; who, though a philosopher, sought not amongst the 
Mte the renown that waits upon the learned teacher ; who, 
instead of saying * odi profanum vulgus et arceo,' opened his 
arms to receive as a brother every one, who pursued goodness, 
truth, unselfishness, as his ideal ; a glimpse of one who re- 
nounced luxury, splendour, and distinction in order to miti- 
gate the distress which he was powerless to remove. While 
the Christian recognizes the vast gulf that separates such an 
one as even S. Paul in respect of the teaching of things divine 
from the founder of Buddhism, he will not deny to the latter 
the possession of a large measure of that true charity, that 
sympathy deep and wide, that missionary zeal and self- 
devotion for the good of mwi that characterized the Apostle. 
Would it be an idle fancy to suppose that the Divine Founder 
of Christianity included Gotama the Buddha, the Enlightened, 
among the * prophets and righteous men ' who pined for the 
fuller light which He Himself projected upon the mystery of 
the government of the world, who, in short, wanted the reve- 
lation of the truth that God is love ? 

That human life is all vanity and vexation of spirit has 
been felt in other lands besides India. What wonder that 
it should have been felt with tenfold force amongst those 
dwellers by the Ganges, when we recall to mind the condi- 
tions of their life, and the enervating nature of the climate, 
and when we learn that the old belief in divine protectors and 
helpers had been sublimated away in the crucible of philo- 
sophic thought, leaving only as a residuum the belief in a 
neuter, unconscious First Cause, when, for this too must be 
added, instead of inculcating justice, mercy, brotherly helpful- 
ness between man and man, the religious teachers, as a rule, 
inculcated, on the one hand, the formal observance of a 
burdensome ritual, and, on the other hand, a self-annihilating 
asceticism, the aim of which was to win absorption into that 
cold unsympathetic shadow ? And if to a man born in the 
midst of these conditions, a man of subtle and intensely medita- 
tive intellect but of large heart, not ignorant of the doubts 
which heterodox teachers cast upon the truth of Brahmanic 
teaching and upon the validity of Brahmanic ritual, but 

' This theory is set forth so recently as 1881 in Buddha and Early 
Buddhism^ by a Mr. Arthur Lillie. We shall make some remarks upon 
' this work b^Snd-by^ . , : 

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1882. The Rise of Buddhism. loi 

unable altogether to emancipate himself from the ideas of his 
age, — if to such a man there came, as a master-passion, the 
desire to lift the weight of human sujflTering, can we conceive a 
more natural result than such a body of doctrine as that, the 
outlines of which can now be referred to Buddha, if not as 
the originator, certainly as the systematic, persevering, and 
popular exponent ? 

Just as S. Paul was not uplifted into the purer atmosphere 
of Christianity before he had reached the highest summits of 
the older faith, so Gotama did not attain to Enlightenment 
until he had made the utmost trial of the system in which he 
was born. He had been taught that by severe self-mortifica- 
tion a man could obtain inward peace, and for six years he 
gave himself up to such pitiless asceticism that ' he was wasted 
away to a shadow.' ^ But he had not attained his object. 
He then modified his ascetic practices, and at lenijth his long 
meditations bore fruit. He seemed to be able to penetrate 
into the secret of existence, and to have discovered how the 
endless chain of misery could be broken off. He had learnt 
now ' the four highest truths : pain, the origin of pain, the 
annihilation of pain, and the way that leads to the annihilation 
of pain.' 

In the system which Buddha now proclaimed, the doctrine 
of re-births held still a very prominent place, though, as the 
recent expositors of it inform us, in a modified form. It is 
not the soul that is renewed, but it is the character of the man 
that lives on, and the cause of its renewal in each successive 
existence is the desire of existence. This potency of desire 
seems to us the foundation stone, in its naked simplicity, of 
early Buddhism : and how natural is the connection of this 
doctrine with a pessimistic conception of the universe is 
strikingly shown in the fact that we have an analogous com- 
bination exemplified in the philosophy of Hartmann. That 
our view is in accord with that of the Buddhists of a very 
early period themselves, is conclusively shown by the famous 
verses of the Dhammapada, which are believed by Buddhists 
to contain the very words uttered by the founder of their reli- 
gion at the moment of his attaining to Buddhahood. We are 
told that he expressed himself as follows : — 

* Looking for the maker of this tabernacle,' that is, not for any 
personal Creator, but, as Professor Max Miiller explains, for the 

^ See Buddhism, by T. W. Rhys Davids (Society for Promoting 
Christian Knowldge), p. 39. See also The History of Antiquity^ vol. iv. 
p. 338 seq. 

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I02 The Rise of Buddhism. April 

cause of new births, * I shall have to run through a course of many 
births so long as I do not find him : and painful is birth again and 
again. But now, maker of this tabernacle, thou hast been seen ! 
Thou shalt not make up this tabernacle again ! All thy rafters are 
broken, thy ridge-pole is sundered ; the mind approaching the 
Eternal (Nirvana) has attained to the extinction of all desires ! ' * 

We have now seen what was the salvation which Buddha 
offered, a state of peace and rest which might be obtained 
by any individual for himself without the aid of the Brahman, 
without having recourse to sacrificial rites. It was open to all 
of whatever caste. The Brahman might win it, so might the 
Sudra, and any that were lower and more despised than he, 
such as Chandalas, who were really of non-Aryan origin, 
though believed to have arisen from the intermarriage of 
Sudras with Brahman women, and consequently regarded 
as ' the most contemptible mortals.' ^ When the Brahmans 
reproached him with preaching to the impure, * My law,* said 
Buddha, *is a law of grace for all.' If here we are reminded 
of our Blessed Lord*s attitude towards publicans and sinners, 
and of the Pharisees making it a subject of reproach, an 
incident related of one of Buddha's most devoted disciples, 
his cousin Ananda, recalls the Gospel incident at the well of 
Samaria. * On one occasion Ananda met a Chandala maiden 
drawing water at a fountain, and asked to drink. She replied 
that she was a Chandala and might not touch him, Ananda 

* The Dhammapada, vs. 153, 154. The translation of * Nirvana' by 
♦the Eternal' appears to us to convey a false idea: perhaps * perfect 
peace ' would reconcile the idea of total cessation of being, which the 
Arahat or Saint certainly attains to at death, with the idea of a reposeful 
state of mind to be attained on earth that neither passion nor sorrow can 
disturb. See Tke Hibbert Lectures for 1881, pp. 31, 100, 161, and 253. 
One of Buddha's early disciples, a Brahman, is stated in the Buddhist 
Scriptures to have thus accounted to the new teacher for his contempt of 
sacrificial rites : — 

' That state of Peace I saw, wherein the roots 
Of new existences are all destroyed ; and greed, 
And hatred, and delusion, all have ceased, — 
The state from lust of future life set free ; 
That changeth not, can ne'er be led to change. 
My mind saw that ! What care I for those rites ? 

— Ibid, p. 159. 
2 The History of Antiquity^ vol. iv. p. 248. Distinct stages can be 
traced in the severity of the caste rules. At an early period the offspring 
of parents belonging to different castes belonged to the same caste as 
the father. Subsequently, when the caste system had come to be re- 
garded as a part of the divine order of the world, the offspring of a mix- 
ture of castes was considered lower than any of the four original castes, 
and, on the principle it would appear of corruptio optimi pessima, lowest 
of all was the offspring of a Brahman woman by a Sudra father. 

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iS82. The Rise of Buddhism. 103 

answered : " My sister, I do not ask you about your caste, nor 
about your family; I ask you for water, if you can give it 
me." ' ^ We miss here, as elsewhere, the revelation of truth as 
to things divine recorded by the Evangelist. 

Buddha did not so much oppose the belief in Brahma 
and in inferior gods — though it must be added that his philo- 
sophy denied the absolute permanence of any being what- 
ever — as he ignored and taught his disciples to ignore them. 
The Buddhist doctrine, the modern echo of which is familiar 
to us, is * try to get as near to wisdom and goodness as you 
can in this life. Trouble not yourselves about the gods. 
Disturb yourself not by curiosities or desires about any future 
existence. Seek only after the fruit of the noble path of self- 
culture and self-control.' ^ 

The Buddhist goal, that which was to be the aim of his 
life, was, as we have said, Nirvdnay which, with whatever 
qualifications, resulted practically in annihilation after this 
life. This was the analogue of S. Paul's * the prize of our 
high calling in Jesus Christ' We are acquainted with the 
stimulating effect of the latter conception, in the light of 
which, few, we imagine, will question the truth of Dr. Rhys 
Davids's estimate of the belief in the immortality of the soul, 
as the * all-powerful belief which has played so mighty a part 
in the influences which have shaped the Europe of to-day.' ^ 
With regard to the Buddhist Nirv&na, * we cannot have any 
doubt,' to quote once more from Professor Max Duncker, 

^ The History of Antiquity ^ vol. iv. p. 362. 

2 See The Hibbert Lectures for 1881, p. 88. 

* Ibid, p. 17. We do not think, with all deference to Dr. Rhys Davids, 
that the fact * that the oldest Hebrew books show little trace of that belief 
in an immortal future life, which became so common among the Jews 
after the captivity in Mesopotamia,' is to be explained by their having 
been without the belief until they came in contact with Aryans. The 
words of Jacob when he supposed that Joseph was dead, * I will go down 
into the grave unto my son mourning' CGen. xxxvii. 35), are not con- 
sistent with this view. The narratives of the translation of Enoch and 
Elijah, and of the appearance of Samuel to the witch of Endor, to say 
nothing of the famous passage in Job, or of the basis of our Blessed 
Lord's refutation of the Sadducees, point clearly in the other direction. 
It is not indeed to be denied that the doctrine in question lacks that 
prominence in the Pentateuch which we might have expected, and War- 
burton, writing in the last century, hazarded the paradox that the omission 
by Moses of a tenet which other religious teachers and philosophers pro- 
pounded, was so singular a fact that he must have acted under Divine 
guidance in omitting it. The paradox has been sneered at, but with our 
Siller knowledge of the absurdities with which the tenet was associated 
in Egypt, it seems likely, as Mr. Stuart Poole has suggested, that its 
omission, or subordination rather, was a wise safeguard from the Egyptian 

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104 The Rise of Buddhis7>u April 

* that this attempt at annihilation, if made in earnest, must 
practically lead to the same results as the absorption of the 
Brahmans into Brahma — that it caused men to become dull^ 
stupid, and brutalized.' ^ 

Notwithstanding this unfavourable verdict, we gladly 
admit that when we take into account the conditions on 
which, according to Buddha, the absolute repose of Nirvana 
was to be obtained, the qualities of mind, the behaviour of 
man to his fellow, we see the possibility of a noble ethical 
system. The modem Agnostic is in a worse logical position 
than Buddha. He desires, as Buddha did not primarily 
desire, to find a principle which may stimulate men to the 
energetic discharge of all family, social, and patriotic duties. 
Buddha's highest ideal of saintly life consisted in the renuncia- 
tion of family life, of life in the world, and the adoption of 
the dress and life of his mendicant order, though he does 
make room in a very subordinate position for the virtues of 
secular life.^ If it be said that Christianity also has li^nduly 
exalted the virtue of the cloister, of celibate life, of the renun- 
ciation of the world, it must be admitted that there have 
been times in the history of the Christian Church when a 
very true principle has been carried to excess. Yet it is still 
true that the renunciation of the world for the Gospel's sake> 
that is, practically, as the Christian believes, for the benefit of 
the world, has produced characters of the most heroic type. 
It is still true that such renunciation contributed largely to 
the evangelization of the world. But so far from Christianity 
proclaiming this principle as the ideal of perfection for all 
men, it exhorts all, by the mouth of its greatest human 
teacher, to the scrupulous discharge of duty in all the relation- 
ships of life * in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ,' and what- 
soever they do to do it * heartily as to the Lord.' 

To recapitulate the substance of the foregoing remarks. 
Taking Buddhism in its earliest and purest stage, we find it 
founded upon a mistaken philosophy of the universe ; we find 
it professing an aim of life that, making out life itself to be 
an evil, must, if universally desired and attained, bring human 
existence to an end, and we find it instructive in contrast to 
Christianity in regard to the promotion of the manifold activities 
of social life, which, working in harmony and due proportion^ 
move the car of progress in its onward career and tend to bring 
about the consummation of that 

' The History of Antiquity^ vol. iv. p. 349. 

2 See Buddhism, by T. W. Rhys Davids, pp. d"^, 64 and 125. 

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i882. The Rise of Buddhism. 105 

' Far off Divine event 
To which the whole creation moves/ 

Having said so much, w^e are bound to pay our tribute to 
the loftiness of much of Buddha's teaching. We can admit, 
without fear of misunderstanding, that in regard even to points 
of duty which in the common opinion have been satisfactorily 
treated by Christianity alone, the Buddhist ideas do not fall 
one whit short of the Christian. The Buddhist precepts with 
regard to patience under injuries, the cultivation of unselfish- 
ness and of sympathy, the duty of endeavouring to relieve the 
distresses of others, of temperance, soberness, and chastity, of 
resignation, of bridling the tongue and the temper, of alms- 
giving and the practice of works of mercy, of the avoidance of 
any ostentation of goodness, even of repentance and acknow- 
ledgment of sin, are, when regarded on the human side alone, 
unsurpassed by those of Christianity ; for in truth, with minor 
differences of detail, both teach the same thing. 

Want of space forbids us to quote at length from the 
Buddhist scriptures in illustration of the excellence of its 
teaching. Examples may, however, be found in Dr. Rhys 
Davids' manual of Buddhism, forming one of the excellent 
series of hand-books on Non-Christian Religious Systems 
published by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. 
We content ourselves with citing a few verses from Professor 
Max Miiller's translation of the JD/iammapada, selected rather 
in illustration of some by-ways of Buddhist thought, than of • 
the general system of morality : — 

V. 19. * The thoughtless man, even if he can recite a large portion 
of the law but is not a doer of it, has no share in the priesthood, but 
is like a cowherd counting the cows of others.' 

V. 20. * The follower of the law, even if he can recite only a small 
portion of the law, but, having forsaken passion and hatred and 
foolishness, possesses true knowledge and serenity of mind, he caring 
for nothing in this world, or that to come, has indeed a share in the 

In these verses we are reminded of the Epistle of S. James, 
while the special mention of recitation of the law recalls the 
wonderful powers of memory common amongst the learned 
Indians, both ancient and modern. The following verses 
sound like the echo of teaching to be found both in the Old 
and the New Testament on the government of the heart : — 

V. 36. ' Let the wise man guard his thoughts, for they are diffi- 
cult to perceive, very artful, and they rush wherever they list 
Thoughts well guarded bring happiness.' 

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io6 The Rise of Buddhistn. Apill 

V. 42. * Whatever a hater may do to a hater, or an enemy to an 
enemy, a wrongly directed mind will do us greater mischief/ 

Many of the verses present not only literary resemblances 
to those of the Proverbs of Solomon, but conceptions at least 
analogous of folly and wisdom. For example : — 

V. 60. ' There is no companionship with a fool.' 

V. 62. ' " These sons belong to me, and this wealth belongs to 
me " — with such thoughts is a fool tormented. He himself does not 
belong to himself; much less sons and wealth.' 

V. 63. * The fool who knows his foolishness is wise at least so 
far. But a fool who thinks himself wise, he is called a fool indeed.' 

V. 64. * If a fool be associated with a wise man even all his life, 
he will perceive the truth as little as a spoon perceives the taste of 

V. 69. * As long as the evil deed done does not bear fruit, the fool 
thinks it is like honey ; but when it ripens then the fool suffers grief.* 

In conclusion. — From the many striking resemblances 
that undoubtedly exist between Buddhism on the one hand 
and the teaching of sects, such as the Essenes, which preceded 
Christianity, and Christianity on the other, some writers have 
jumped hastily to the conclusion that the former was the source 
of the latter. A recent attempt to establish this inference is 
made in a book referred to above and entitled Buddlia and 
Early Buddhism. The writer having, as he says, devoted nine 
years to the study of the subject, thinks himself qualified to put 
forward original views opposed to those of Burnouf, St. Hilaire, 
Professors Max Miiller and Monier Williams, Dr. Rhys Davids, 
and, as he believes, almost every writer of note. Loud as is 
the trumpet-blast of the challenger, we do not imagine that 
writers of note will think it worth while to engage in serious 
combat with him. He has read widely on the subject, but, as 
it seems to us, with an entire absence of that discriminating 
judgment which would alone entitle him to be listened to 
when propounding original views. For example, he twice 
quotes S. Paul's words, 'preached to every creature under 
heaven,' in reference to the Gospel, in proof that * the higher 
Buddhism and the higher Christianity are the same religion,* 
and that S. Paul thought so.^ Mr. Lillie's naXve confession as 

^ See Buddha and Early Buddhism^ by Arthur Lillie (late Regiment of 
Lucknow). London, 1881. Introduction, p. x, and pp. 217, 218. S. Paul's 
words are in Col. i. 23, not, as Mr. Lillie gives the reference both times, 
V. 3. Whether the Trao-i? rr\ ktIo-ci of the Apostle be only an hyperbole, 
arising in this particular verse from the repeated use in the previous 
verses of the same or related expressions, or whether it have some 
mysterious fulness of meaning corresponding to the meaning of these 
expressions, it is quite certain that Mr. Lillie is egregiously mistaken. 

Digitized by 


i882. The Salvation Army. 107 

to the prime source of his superior enlightenment with regard 
to the principles of early Buddhism, is of itself sufficient to 
destroy all credit for his work. To rely, as he does, upon the 
testimony of a nineteenth-century Nepalese Buddhist who, 
however learned, could know but little of the Western science 
of criticism, and could certainly not be impartial, for informa- 
tion as to original Buddhism, is an infallible method of arriving 
at wrong conclusions. 

The best scholars, even those without bias in favour of 
any religion as revealed, have come to the conclusion that 
similarities such as those referred to above are not to be ex- 
plained by the easy method of supposing a passage en bloc in 
ancient times of a set of religious ideas from India into 
Palestine. It is only by ignoring the totally different bases, 
and indeed the general architecture, so to say, of the two 
edifices of religious thought, that the resemblances of separate 
features are made to appear significant. A person ignorant 
of horticulture might suppose that apples and pears were 
descended from the same not very remote ancestral tree, but 
they belong to distinct species. Until post-Christian times, 
when missionaries may have furnished the channel by which 
some resemblances of ritual passed over into the ritualistic 
system of Northern Buddhism, the development of religion in 
the farther East and that of which Christianity was the out- 
come pursued their course independently of one another. 
We have only to recall to mind the grand conception of the 
Supreme Being and of His relation to His creatures — a 
conception which, though expanded and developed, continued 
essentially identical throughout the course of Biblical history — 
to assure ourselves that this was the case. 


1. Heathen England: being a Description of the utterly Godless 

Condition of the Vast Majority of the English Nation^ and 
of the Establishment, Grow thy System y and Success of an 
Army for its Salvation, consisting of Working People^ 
under the Generalship of William Booth, Third Edition. 
(London, 1879.) 

2. Aggressive Christianity, By Mrs. Booth. (London, 


Digitized by 


lo8 The Salvation Army. April 

3. Our Story in 1881. (London, 1882.) 

4. The War Cry, and Official Gazette of the Salvation Arviy^ 

(Published Weekly.) 

5. The Little Soldier : t/ie Children's War Cry, (Published 


About nine-and-thirty years ago, at Nottingham, an eager- 
hearted boy of fourteen, named William Booth, obtained per- 
mission of his father, who was a nominal Churchman, to leave 
the uninteresting Church service of those days, and seek 
a form of worship which might better please his fancy in a 
Wesleyan meeting-house. Here, according to the story, a 
year later he was * converted ;' and without delay, accompanied 
by two or three other boys who had lately passed through 
a similar experience, he threw himself ardently into religious 
work in the lower parts of the town, where he preached in all 
weathers indoors or out-of-doors. At the age of seventeen the 
boy was an accredited preacher among the Wesleyans, and 
would have passed on into their ministry, had not the doctors 
told him that in that case he would die in a twelvemonth. 
He still, however, persevered in preaching ; and at the age 
of twenty-four, finding himself stronger, he was admitted to 
be a minister, though not among the Wesleyans, but in a sect 
called the Methodist New Connexion. Immediately after this 
occurrence, though formally appointed to a fixed station, he 
chose an irregular life of revival work, first in Guernsey, then 
in the Black Country, then in the North. The ' conversions ' 
effected by him during this time, recorded and counted up in 
the strange fashion of those sectarians, rose to an imposing 
figure. But Mr. Booth's sect did not, for some reason or 
another, approve of this roving career, in spite of its success. 
He was for a few years tied down again to the charge of a 
congregation ; and on his applying in 1861 for leave to 
resume once more the position of an * evangelist,' the applica- 
tion was refused. Mr. Booth felt that he was in no way 
bound to yield to such an authority. He left the New 
Connexion, as he had before left the Wesleyans and still 
earlier the Church, and betook himself to that paradise of 
revivalists, the county of Cornwall, as an unattached preacher. 
After various fortunes, Mr. Booth's energies at last became 
concentrated upon East London. In the year 1865, which is 
considered the birth year of the Salvation Army, he happened 
to call at the oflfice of The Christian newspaper, when he 
received an invitation to hold a week of preaching in a tent at 

Digitized by 


1882. The Salvation Army. 109 

* Here he saw the enormous population of utterly godless people 
which swarmed on every side ; and feeling his heart strangely drawn 
out for their salvation, he resolved, in the strength of the Lord, to 
turn aside from those who in all directions throughout the country 
would have invited him to continue the work of an evangelist in 
their midst, and to spend the remainder of his life in endeavouring to 
christianize the millions of his countrymen who instead of inviting 
might be inclined to repel his labours.' ^ 

Hitherto, though he had seen a good deal in the way of 
orthodox revivals among the sects, he * had little knowledge 
of the way to get at those who lay outside the sphere of exist- 
ing religious organizations/ He resolved boldly to take 
experience for his schoolmaster. 

* He began by preaching in the open air upon a piece of land by 
the side of the Mile-End Road, where shows, shooting-ranges, petty 
dealers, and quack doctors rival each other in attracting the attention 
of the poor. In those days it was rather a novelty for any one to 
stand there statedly and regularly in all weathers to preach to the 
people. And this tall, dark stranger who came to talk to them all 
familiarly about their souls, using every passing event and every 
common proverb to pass along the line of their ordinary thoughts, 
bringing in great truths long forgotten if ever known, was a new wonder . 
— ^an attraction equal at any rate to Punch-and-Judy or the giant 
baby. . . . Men and women long burdened with sins followed him 
to the tent, and one after another fell down at the feet of Jesus, and 
sought and found mercy. These, rallying round their spiritual father 
in the open air, soon began by their singing and their simple relation 
of God's pardoning love to them to increase the general interest in 
the affair, and many who would have taken little notice of a mere 
preacher stood speechless and astounded to hear men, who had been 
notorious for their iniquity but a little while before, tell of the peace, 
and joy, and love, they now possessed.' ^ 

In the autumn Mr. Booth's tent was demolished by wind 
and wet. Then, after a short sojourn in the open air, the 
work found a home in an old dancing-saloon, afterwards in a 
low public-house, which was converted into a mission-hall. To 
this succeeded a large theatre, hired for Sunday use. Persons 
from all quarters of East London who had been converted in 
this theatre began to ask that similar operations might be set 
on foot in their own neighbourhoods. In Bethnal Green, 
Limehouse, Poplar, Canning Town, club-rooms, cellars, sheds, 
old abandoned chapels, an old factory, a back room behind a 
pigeon-shop, became centres of their missionary activity. Four 
years after the commencement in Whitechapel the plant 

" Heathen England^ p. 23. ^ Ibid, pp. 23, 24. 

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no The Salvation Ar^ny. April 

threw out runners into the country. But a new danger now 
arose : made more serious by a long illness of Mr. Booth. 
Many of the workers who threw in their lot with Mr. Booth 
had been recruited from various religious denominations, and 
had brought 'with all their piety and devotion an amount of 
inclination towards the settled, methodical, and unenterprising 
church life which they had left.* Mr. Booth's missionary band 
was in peril of becoming an ordinary sect before its time. 
Many, also, of the leaders were, it seems, disposed to form little 
sects of their own in which they might be their own masters, 
and suck their advantage out of the converts. But such 
attempts were firmly repressed; and in the year 1878, the 
society — if society it can be called — had so consolidated itself, 
and had so formulated its principles, that it set before itself 
the whole world as its field ; and, dropping its former name of 
* The Christian Mission ' — a sufficiently far-reaching title, one 
would have said — it assumed the style by which it has 
become famous, or notorious, of * The Salvation Army.' 

Since that time the growth of the organization has been 
so rapid and conspicuous that it is impossible even for those 
who most dislike its principles to ignore it. It forces itself 
alike upon the attention of the secular press and the magistracy, 
and upon the careful consideration of all Christians. The 
statistics of its present position demand that we should try to 
find the secret of its force, and question ourselves upon our 
attitude with respect to it. Those statistics are briefly 
summed up thus, in the pamphlet called Our Story in 1881. 
There are now in England 251 * corps,' or stations occupied- 
according to another statement 351 — as against 45 in 1878. 
The number of * officers ' whose time is entirely given to the 
work of the Army was, in the former year, 88 ; it is now 533. 
They claim to have 13,393 efficient public speakers — volunteers 
— who are ready to speak for them at any time. The income 
of the Army, in subscriptions from its members and donations 
from friends, amounted last year to no less than 57,000/. A 
sum of * only 20,000/.' is now on the way to be expended in 
purchasing the London Orphan Asylum at Clapton as a 
'Training Home for 400 Cadets,' who will pass on to be 
officers in the Army. The War Cry^ their official journal, 
bids fair to spoil the proud boast of the Daily Telegraph, for 
it has already a circulation of 200,000 : weekly, of course, not 
daily ; while the Little Soldier, not a year old, has started 
with a circulation of 53,000. The publication of an American 
War Cry shows how the movement has taken hold in that 
country* The new Bishop of Adelaide will find his episcopal 

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i882. The Salvation Army. iii 

city the head-quarters of a flourishing Australian corps, which 
has won for its captain the honour of an hour's imprisonment, 
succeeded by encomiums from the Government of the colony. 
Miss Booth, a year ago, had the hardihood to invade France 
itself, where a large number of Protestant ministers had com- 
bined to pray that the Army might not be allowed an entrance. 
Her congregation contained, according to the account of 
the police officer, *half the cut-throats in Paris.' Dis- 
turbances took place. The hall was, for the time, closed by 
authority of the police. Salvationists were to share the fate of 
Redemptorists, Passionists, and Marists. Thereupon a remon- 
strance was forwarded by no less personages than the late Lord 
Chancellor of England, the late Lord Mayor of London, and 
the Chief of our Metropolitan Police ; and after a few days 
the hall was reopened. Since then a second French corps 
has been formed, and the Army has invaded Switzerland, 
under command of a Swiss vagabond who had taken refuge 
in Paris, and was there converted. Near the close of i88i^ 

* we heard,' the Salvationists say, * from a missionary in South 
Africa, who had hoisted a banner bearing the words " Blood 
and Fire " in the Kaffir language.' Though we smile at the 
mode in which the Salvationists apprise us of these facts, the 
facts themselves give food for serious reflexion. 

The greatest diversity of opinion exists in the minds of 
persons outside the Army with respect to the work done by 
it. The Bishop of Manchester has publicly denounced the 
Salvationists : the Bishop of Rochester has given them out- 
spoken praise. Warm tributes to their zeal and success were 
paid in the Newcastle Church Congress, and various clerical 
meetings of importance (such, for instance, as that at S. James's, 
Piccadilly) have shown general favour to the essential charac- 
teristics of the movement. The Bishop of Truro has made their 
work the subject of careful conference with the clergy and 
laity of every rural deanery in his diocese, where we learn that 
the laity have, on the whole, shown less sympathy for them 
than the clergy. Among the dissenters, the Romanist Tablet 
has recognized with some kindliness the beneficial moral 
results of their crusade. The President of the Wesleyan 
Conference has attended their meetings, and declared that they 

* all agree [with him] about salvation ; ' but in many places,, 
perhaps most, the Army has no opponents so keen and bitter as 
the various bodies of Methodists, especially the Wesleyans. 
Sometimes, when a Methodist chapel has been losing its 
adherents, and has got into a bad way financially, they have 
been glad to compound with the Salvationists, in the hope 

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112 The Salvation Army. April 

that those who are attracted by the new revival may pass 
into attending the chapel regularly ; but many old-fashioned 
Wesleyans complain of the cold worldliness with which their 
leaders stand aloof from a movement which looks like a 
return to the days of John Wesley. In some towns the 
Salvationists feel that the Church is the only power not in 
antagonism to them, except the police. The police, as a rule, 
bear steady testimony to the good which the Army is doing. 
This testimony is the more valuable, as the general pro« 
ceedings of the Army cannot be in accordance with a police- 
man's ideal of good order ; and, in fact, they give the police 
a great deal of trouble. Mr. Railton describes it as becoming 
sometimes * a case of open war' between his friends and them, 
and gives humorous recipes for making it * impossible for a 
policeman to enjoy his duty.' ^ Yet, in spite of this, we have 
never seen anything but respectful protection shown to the 
Army by the police. * The quay is quite a changed place, 
sir,' said a superintendent in a bad seaport town ; * since the 
Salvation Army came we have had no work to do there, and 
the public-houses are empty.' Such evidence is well worth 
considering. There are, unhappily, a large number of instances 
in which* confirmed drunkards and bad characters, after being 
for a time changed by the efforts of Mr. Booth's people, have 
gone back to their evil habits. But it does not condemn the 
system to point to a score or two of such cases, when examples 
of perseverance may be quoted with equal ease. What 
system has ever been tried which has not failed in like manner 
here and there.? S. Peter's net, in the Gospel, did not break, 
nor suffer any of the one hundred and fifty and three great 
fishes to escape ; yet the Epistles show how frequent and deep 
must have been the disappointment of the Apostles over 
many converts, whom even their inspired sagacity and in- 
fallible teaching, and ardent love of souls and individualizing 
zeal, could not save from going back to the error from which 
they had * clean escaped.' 

At the same time, we cannot always argue that because a 
movement effects good, it must therefore be a good movement. 
It must be a movement which contains good : for a totally 
corrupt tree cannot bring forth any good fruit. And we run a 
tremendous risk if, seeing souls saved and devils cast out, we 
allow any jealousy on the Church's behalf, or personal repul- 
sion from bad taste, or prejudice against novel modes of 
action, to make us impugn the goodness of the power which 
produces these beneficial results. But, on the other hand, our 
^ Heathen England^ pp. 51, 52. 

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i882. The Salvation Army. 113 

-sympathy with what is good in any movement is no excuse 
for ignoring the evil with which it is mixed. Few would deny, 
for instance, that the work of Wesley produced at first, and 
still in a less degree produces, an incalculable amount of good ; 
and yet, after mature experience — when we see how it has 
annihilated the love of Christian unity, its deadly contempt 
for authority, its impatience, its natural antinomianism, its 
•encouragement of spiritual pride — we are by no means sure 
that Wesley did more good than harm. Though the words 
were ironically intended by the speaker, yet they contain a 
great deal of truth, that 

' The evil that men do lives after them, 
The good is oft interred with their bones/ 

All religious work done apart from the Church, or even done 
within the pale, but not in the spirit, of the Church, seems to 
be doomed to exemplify the words of Antony. The good 
soon passes away : the evil lives on. Let us hope that it may 
not be thus with the Salvation Army : it contains a very large 
admixture of good ; but there is much also to cause fear for 
its future. The remark is not our own, but one which we 
fully accept, that it is unsafe to judge of the Salvation Army 
by its best representatives. Were all the workers in it charac- 
terized by the same qualities as the lady whose soul-stirring 
and sensible addresses we have named at the head of this 
article, we should have little apprehension about the ultimate 
results of the movement. But the coarse, profane, and irre- 
verent element threatens to gain the upper hand. The most re- 
volting blasphemies may constantly be heard at the meetings ; 
and we have never known of their being checked. In judging 
of the Holy Church, we feel that we may judge her by her best 
men and women, for it is evident that her best fall far short 
of the standard which she sets before them ; but the Salvation 
army has no standard, except such ideal of the Christian 
life as each individual may propose to himself; and we fear 
the tendency must naturally be, as it has been with the 
Wesleyans, to sink lower. The only hope of averting such 
consequences seems to lie in the chance (which we shall 
endeavour presently to estimate) of drawing the Salvation 
Army into the Church itself 

Most of the operations of the Salvation Army are too well 
Icftown to need any description. Any one who has visited 
any of our larger towns during the last four years must have 
been pretty sure to see the Army marching in procession 
through the streets, singing one of its popular melodies. The 

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114 The Salvation Army. April 

procession is usually headed by some ' Captain Happy Ann," 
who walks backwards waving an umbrella. The mob which 
accompanies it is usually prodigal of good-humoured ' chaff/ 
If, as is often the case, the Salvationists are singing sacred 
words to the tune of a comic song, then the mob swells the 
music by singing the comic song itself. But it is not always 
that the mob is so good-tempered. At Sheffield, the other 
day, a poor * Converted Wrestler '' was hit with a block of 
wood and thrown from a horse which he was riding, with 
such force as to break his thigh, while others of the party got 
into their ' barracks ' bleeding and faint. Barnstaple, Basing- 
stoke, and Boston, to go no further into the alphabet, have 
distinguished themselves by their opposition to the good 
people who wanted to turn them from sin. Exeter, notorious 
for riots, whether against surplices or against bishops who 
preach temperance, has gone the length of organizing a 
counter agitation, which, under the title of the 'Skeleton 
Army.* parades the city, defying magistrates and police 
officers, for the express purpose of wrecking Salvationist 
meetings and meeting-places, and of confirming people in the 
habits of which the Salvationists wish to break them. In the 
case of Stamford, the apprehensions of the magistrates were 
so grave, that they appealed to the Home Secretary to know 
what they were to do. A rescript came back from Sir W. 
Vernon-Harcourt which drew down upon itself the severe and 
merited rebuke of every leading newspaper in England, Con- 
servative or Liberal. It stated that the Salvationist pro- 
cessions, *not being illegal in themselves, cannot, in the 
absence of other circumstances, be legally prevented ; but 
where they provoke antagonism and lead to riotous collisions^ 
and where the peace of the town would be endangered if they 
are allowed to continue, the magistrates should by every 
means in their power endeavour to prevent them.' It recom- 
mended that wherever the magistrates had reason to believe 
that a breach of the peace would result from the processions, 
the chief constable should lay before them a sworn infor- 
mation to that effect, and then the magistrates should issue 
notices prohibiting the processions, and should use force, if 
necessary, to stop them. In other words, the Salvation Army 
was to be dealt with on the principle of Mocal option.' The 
question whether Her Majesty's peaceable subjects were to 
be allowed to exercise their legal right and walk in pro- 
cession was to be referred to the good pleasure of the roughs. 
It must be confessed that, on the whole, the Salvationists 
liave borne these attacks with great courage and great 

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1 882. The Salvation Army. 115 

patience. There are cases where an unwise 'captain' has 
retaliated, or even taken the initiative in a fray ; but such 
cases are infrequent. 

' We conquer/ they say, * by patient perseverance in well-doing. 
Preacher-hunting is a grand diversion for any number of weeks or 
months, if the preachers make good running ; but if they stand their 
ground doggedly and invincibly, it becomes uninteresting. To holloa 
and push for ten minutes is delightful. If no impression be made, 
however, it becomes rather trying in twenty minutes. In half an 
hour it becomes quite monotonous ; and the moment anything else 
turns up (and something is always " turning up " in a large town), the 
whole pack are off upon a new scent (except those who are nailed to 
the spot in spite of themselves).' ' 

But even where there is no violent opposition to endure, 
it must require great earnestness and power of lasting to go 
through the tremendous work devolving upon the poor mis- 
sionaries — of whom quite as many are women as men — and 
often married women with families. The pay which they 
receive cannot be much inducement ; for the whole sum on 
which are maintained the seventy-seven staff officers at the 
central and nine divisional headquarters amounts to no more 
than 3,300/. per annum ; an average of not 43/. apiece. Even 
this salary is not guaranteed to them. Each officer, on enter- 
ing upon his duties, * acknowledges in writing that he has no 
legal claim upon headquarters or upon any other authority 
in the Army for salary or remuneration.' ^ Mr. Booth him- 
self is not in any way maintained out of the funds of the 
Army, but * from the commencement of the movement has 
been supported from an entirely independent source.' If 
rumour speaks true, he has maintained himself, at any rate 
from time to time, by entering into business — becoming at 
Nottingham a pawnbroker, at Penzance a potato-merchant. 
And for such salaries they must every day do a hard day's 
work. Some little time may be allowed for study and private 
prayer ; but the officers are almost all day engaged in visiting 
houses, selling the War Cry — a humiliation which some of 
them feel keenly at first — keeping careful accounts of money 
received and spent, looking after their converts, and other 
matters of the kind. Poor * Captain ' Trenhail, of Exeter, 
after passing three or four hours in the lock-up on Sunday, 
March 12, said that he had not done so much singing, reading, 
and praying by himself for a long time. Every evening 
brings the inevitable procession or prayer-meeting — or 

* Heathen England^ p. 48. 

^ All about the Salvation Anny (Partridge and Co.), p. 8. 

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ii6 The Salvation Army. April 

' march-past ' and ' knee-drill ' — with addresses. They laugh 
to scorn the thought that there is any special * season ' for 
giving open-air addresses ; if the weather is too bad for 
people to stand out in the streets, they will at least come to 
their windows to listen. * Extremely cold, snowy, or wet 
weather, when it is impossible to get any large numbers to 
stand at a corner, and when so many are in their warm 
dwellings, is a peculiarly suitable time for this sort of work.' * 
And as for interniitting a day here and there, they would not 
think of it. This is what they think of daily service : — 

* Daily service is not a mere Army question. Who ever invented 
a religion without daily attendance on public divine service ? Why, 
the Devil, of course, whose policy always has been, is, and will be, 
as long as he has to deal with sinful mortals, to persuade them to put 
off till to-morrow what they should do to-day ! Did not our fathers 
eat manna in the wilderness, and stand before the tabernacle of God 
everyday? Did not God institute daily service in His temple? 
Did not the Psalmist find it his only desire to dwell in the house of 
the Lord all the days of his life ? Did not the holy people before 
Christ was manifested meet daily in the temple ? Did not He, our 
Master and our Example, daily teach the people, and daily in the 
temple, when near enough to Jerusalem ? Did not His Apostles 
daily in the synagogues, and from house to house, preach and teach 
and heal ? Ay, did not every converted reader of these pages so 
understand and practise every-day religion in the time of their first 
love ? If people do not serve the Lord daily in public, it is simply 
because their every-day life has very little of the heavenly about it.* * 

Of course, when the Salvationists speak thus of daily 
service, they mean something as far removed as any one can 
well conceive from the chastened temper of our matins and 
evensong ; and probably it would be regarded by most of 
them as a lamentable falling from grace if any of their con- 
verts should be captivated by that * soothing * influence of the 
Prayer Book which inspired the Christian Year, But it must 
be recollected that their usual * service ' is not intended for 
the edifying of those who are already true servants of God ; it 
is designed for the conversion of sinners ; so that naturally 
any large introduction of the element of worship would be 
out of place. The service consists of a series of the shortest 
possible addresses fired at the people (they consist usually 
of a testimony of * experience' and a fervent appeal), and 
between each two addresses comes one of their rollicking 
hymns, so called. It is certainly striking to see the way in 
which the choruses are caught up by the rough people. So 

* Heathen England y p. 55. * Ibid, pp. 84, 85. 

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i882. The Salvation Army. 117 

readily are they learned, that in many places they have 
become a great offence to the reverent mind ; for at all hours 
of the day boys and girls may be heard shouting the most 
sacred of Names, and words relating to His adorable Passion, 
as the accompaniment of their wildest games. Unfortunately 
very little is done at the meetings to convey to the hearers 
any notion of reverence. We have heard very * inconvenient ' 
jesting introduced into a meeting, which, though it tends to 
keep up a friendly feeling with the rough mob, must jar pain- 
fully upon the heart of any person who is really under con- 
viction of sin and desires to be pointed to the Saviour. Such 
well-intended but ill-timed good humour cannot fail to give 
the impression that the whole thing is either a joke or a job. 
The prayers, such as they are, are generally a volley of pas- 
sionate ejaculations, like ' Lord, save souls ; save somebody 
just now ; shake sinners over the pit of fire,' repeated inces- 
santly, like the cries of an Eastern dervish, and accompanied 
by a violent flinging of the body to and fro ; and usually the 
effect is neither more nor less spiritual or Christian than with 
the dervishes. When the moment seems to be come, some 
of the workers, while the rest are praying or singing, go about 
the room, pleading with individual souls ; and the pleading 
of some of the women, at least, is most powerful. When 
such is the character of the Salvationist * daily service,' some 
guess may be formed with regard to those other gatherings 
which are known by the name of a ' Salvation Free-and- 
Easy,' or a * Hallelujah Ham Tea.' But what takes place at 
these, we confess not to know by experience. 

There is always a collection at the meetings ; and some- 
times a stroke of business is done by the conductor saying, 
* Now we'll sing the hymn that's just come out in the new 
number of the War Cry, page three. I hope you've all read 
the new number. It contains ,' then follows an appe- 
tizing bill of fare for those who like it. The Salvation Army 
has certainly caught one distinctive mark of our times in the 
extreme boldness and unblushing self-assertion of its adver- 
tisements. The War Cry is a wonderful paper, with all its 
vulgarity. It always contains something really worth reading 
in the way of a sermon, or an epigram, or a biography ; and 
the weekly reports of successes won at the various stations 
up and down the country make it replete with local interests. 
It is a model for all papers which wish exactly to hit off the 
tone and taste of their clientHe, There can be no doubt, that 
— like the silly military titles which have been adopted — its 
constant repetition of the same stale slang about * knee-drill,' 

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ii8 The Salvation Army. Aprij 

and * falling into the fountain/ and * hallelujah lasses,' is a real 
recommendation to the lower population of our towns. We 
cannot help hoping that it may, by these means, do niuch to 
oust, not only Lloyd and Reynolds^ but also such pernicious 
and widely-read trash as the Christian Heraldy to which in 
manliness and earnestness it is vastly superior. But with all 
our charity we cannot wish any success to the Little Soldier ; 
nor can we imagine it can live long. It is mostly made up of 
communications of poor little boys and girls, who are en- 
couraged to give their * experience ' in this fcishion : — 

* I do thank God that I am still saved. It is four months and a 
week since I gave my heart to God. My brother got saved, and I 
pray to God that my mother will get saved. 

* " Happy Arthur," aged eleven and a half years.' 

Mrs. Booth is reported in the Little Soldier for March 2, to 
have said, with her usual good sense : * Now directly a boy or 
girl leaves off being simple, he or she leaves off being a child, 
and becomes a sort of a mixture between a grown-up person 
and an imp.' Few persons will hesitate to say that the Little 
Soldier is one of the best machines ever invented for turning 
children into that unamiable mixture. 

But the worst feature connected with the new revival is, to 
our own minds, one which is not peculiar to itself, but which 
it shares in common with other Protestant revivals, though 
the Salvation Army has perhaps brought it into greater pro- 
minence than any. We refer to their teaching upon sanctifica- 
tion. To those who have not attended any of their indoor 
gatherings, it may perhaps be interesting to be informed of 
the nature of their * Holiness Meetings,' of which so much is 
heard. These meetings are not intended for the ' conversion ' 
of the unconverted, although the public are free to attend 
them, and shots will be fired from time to time at any uncon- 
verted people who may happen to have come in. The purpose 
of the * Holiness Meeting ' is to carry on those who already 
are ' saved,' or * converted,' or * believing,' or * born again,* to 
a further definite stage of experience. It is not enough 
to have * fallen into the fountain ' (which is their cant 
phrase for the first stage) ; the man who has * come out for 
pardon,' must, at some subsequent period, * come out for 
purity ' ; and it is this which forms the object of the * Holiness 
Meeting.' You go some Thursday afternoon at five o'clock to 
the headquarters, in Queen Victoria Street. Passing through 
the neat little antechamber, fitted up as a depot, where the 
publications of the Army are sold, you enter a fair-sized room. 

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i882. The Salvation Army, 119 

treated, so far as the walls and the woodwork are concerned, 
in the best aesthetic fashion, with dado and sage-green paint, 
and wan rhododendron paper. At the further end of the 
room IS a sofa, to serve as a * penitent form,' and a small daYs 
with a chair for the conductor of the meeting. The meeting 
begins with a hymn, and then follows prayer. It strikes 
you as very much like other dissenting prayer-meetings. An 
ordinary devout Churchman is positively alarmed at the noisy 
shout or scream which the person who prays finds helpful in 
expressing his wants. With these prayers hymns are inter- 
spersed, sung kneeling, with choruses which are repeated 
again and again, ad libitum. You must be prepared to hear 
* Rock of Ages ' sung quick, with a swinging chorus, to the 
tune of * So early in the Morning,' or something equally unlike 
what Churchmen would think reverent. The conductor of 
the meeting sets himself deliberately to arouse a physical 
excitement in the audience, while perhaps exhibiting in his 
own countenance not a trace of corresponding feeling. It is 
evidently part of his business, and he keeps himself perfectly 
cool for it, while singing at the top of his voice, extending 
both his arms, and shaking his hands with a thrill such as a 
peacock makes with his feathers, or clapping them violently 
over some person whom he wishes to affect. All seems to us 
a strange method of preparing to receive a spiritual gift; 
though we are willing to allow that there are some natures so 
lethargic, or so overcrusted with habitual sin, that without a 
kind of physical concussion they may be unable to pay 
attention to a message requiring an effort of reception. 
In this case, however, the persons who are to receive the 
message are, as we have said, not those who are supposed 
to be dead in trespasses and sins, but those who are risen 
to newness of life ; and therefore violent noise and gesture 
seem doubly out of place. But the real evil lies in the 
message itself. One after another, the speakers, men and 
women, stand up and give their 'experience' of receiving 
what they call * the second blessing,' or sanctification. They 
describe how they felt it come over them * like a second new- 
birth.' Up till that time they had been believers, and saved, 
but they had gone on sinning. Since receiving the * second 
blessing,' they have been completely delivered from the power 
of sin. They are now living ' in the land of Beulah.' Sancti- 
fication, according to this teaching, is not a progressive 
development of the justified soul in a course of vigilance, 
humility, and faith, but a gift to be received in a second, 
putting the whole man at once on a higher level of life than 

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I20 The Salvation Army. April 

in the days when he was only ' saved/ But there are some 
sins which go before to judgment, and one of these is spiritual 
self-conceit ; and we must confess (however uncharitable it 
may appear) that we have heard men declare themselves at 
* Holiness Meetings ' to be living in the land of Beulah, whose 
whole bearing and look, as well as their speech, seemed to 
show plainly that their self-complacency was rapidly pre- 
paring them for very different habitations. We have seen 
young women receive the * second blessing ' at the ' penitents' 
sofa,' and return with smiles to the kisses and congratulations 
of their friends, looking none the better for it. Such a doctrine 
as this of sanctification may, we believe — wrong as it is in 
philosophy — bring forth no evil in the hands of a person with 
the intense love of God and His law which stamps every 
utterance of Mrs. Booth ; and the more subtle exponents of the 
theory have various ways of stating it ^yhich delivers them 
from the charge of bald perfectionism. But take persons of a 
somewhat coarser spiritual constitution, and they will at once, 
consciously or unconsciously, evolve two pernicious conse- 
quences from it : first, that a man may be considered a con- 
verted and saved man without having definitely renounced 
his bad habits ; and secondly, that after having passed through 
this second crisis he may consider himself, and speak of him- 
self, as a saint beyond the reach of sin. 

This teaching about sanctification seems to be inextri- 
cably a part of the Salvation Army's system. It is not, like 
the hideous blasphemies which are sometimes heard in their 
addresses, an excrescence which a little judicious severity would 
cut off. The ' Holiness Meetings ' seem to us, therefore, to be 
the worst part of the Salvationists* work. We are sorry to say 
so, for they must needs represent the highest type of work which 
the Salvationists can do. They stereotype the least attractive 
aspect of the Methodist class-meetings. Those class-meetings 
were in old days the Methodist confessional ; they have now 
come to be, in lai^e measure, the weekly opportunity for dis- 
playing religious self-satisfaction. It would be a great boon 
to her followers if, instead of encouraging these ' Holiness 
Meetings,' Mrs. Booth would devote her energies to a work 
such as she speaks of at the end of her noble address on the 
Fruits of Union with Christ : — 

*This fruit will also appear in yoiir Church relations. It will 
bring forth fruit. As the Apostle says, " Exhorting one another daily, 
not suffering sin in your neighbour ; reproving each other, and con- 
fessing your faults the one to the other." Where is any of it done ? I 
should like very much to attend such a meeting, if you invite me> 

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i882. The Salvation Army. 121 

where Christians really and honestly confess their faults one to the 
other, and pray for one another, beseeching the Lord to heal them 
in those particular points where they have failed, telling one another 
of the deep things of God, and talking lovingly and freely to one 
another as they used to do. The communion of saints — exhorting 
one another daily. The devil is at it daily. The world is plying 
for us daily. The flesh is there daily. Everything else goes on 
daily. ^Vhy should not this exhorting one another, confessing your 
fciults to one another, and praying for one another, go on daily too ? ' ^ 

Enough has been already said to show that, with all their 
eccentricities and all their serious vices, the Salvationists are 
displaying a force of enthusiasm, and of hard work, and of 
practical sagacity in the adaptation of means to ends, which 
would make them a most valuable instrument for good if they 
could be controlled by Catholic wisdom ; without which control 
their declension must, we fear, inevitably be rapid and disas- 
trous. It may be asked, what is their attitude towards the 
Church ? What attitude should the Church assume towards 
them } Is there the least hope of a mutual conciliation ? 

The main fact to be considered in endeavouring to answer 
these inquiries is the fact that hitherto the Salvationists have 
steadily refused to constitute themselves, eo nominey a sect. 
In the little catechism called All about the Salvation Army 
(p. 24), the question is propounded : — 

* Will not this movement result in the making of a new sect ? 
Am, Not in the sense in which a new sect is ordinarily understood. 
It is not a Church after the fashion of the Churches, but an Army, 
that is aimed at. That is, a force as real, as active, as self-sacrificing,, 
and as much under control for soul-saving purposes as the ordinary 
military armies are for slaughter and destruction. There is evidently,, 
at present, nothing after this model in existence, and if it be desirable 
and scriptural, it does not matter much what it is called.' 

And Mr. Railton speaks still more strongly : — 

* " But this is making a denomination — a new sect." Well, and 
supposing it is. Is there any harm in doing so ? Is there not a need 
for just such a " sect " in many a city and town of this kingdom, 
where no such work is being done amongst the masses ? But we 
deny that we are in any proper sense a sect. We refuse to settle 
down into places of worship such as might be agreeable to our people 
and their families, but insist upon the open-air stand and the place of 
amusement, where there may be little comfort, but where the most 
good may be done. We refuse to allow our officers to stay very long 
in any one place, lest they or the people should sink into the relation- 
ship of pastor and flock, and look to their mutual enjoyment and 
advantage rather than to the salvation of others. The whole Army 

^ Aggressive Christianity : Sixth Address. • 

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122 The Salvation Army. April 

is kept in its course by the direction of one controlling will. . . . We 
refuse utterly to allow of any authoritative assembly, committee, 
church meeting, or any other representative or popular gathering, 
except purely for the purpose of auditing finance and accepting and 
confirming and arranging for the execution of the plans which have 
been tried and proved most calculated to promote the common 
object We are not and will not be made a sect. We are an army 
of soldiers of Christ, organized as perfectly as we have been able to 
accomplish, seeking no Church status, avoiding as we would the 
plague every denominational rut, in order perpetually to reach 
more and more of those who lie outside every Church boundary. 
Owing to our adherence to this rigid military system, we are losing 
almost every year officers, as well as people, who, having lost their 
first love, begin to hanker after the " rights," " privileges," " comforts," 
" teaching," or " respectabiUty of the Churches." No one remains 
with us, or is likely to remain, whose sole object in life is not the 
attainment of the one purpose ever kept before the Army — the rescue 
from sin and hell of those who are farthest from God and righteous- 
ness. And we only wish to keep such people together. No one can 
possibly object to the formation of another sect more strongly than 
we do. Let all who wish to be members of a denomination flee 
from our borders. We only desire to form and to keep up outside 
€very denominational circle a body as large as we can of free- 
shooters, for the express purpose of assaulting with spiritual weapons 
those who, like ourselves, are without the Church, but who, unlike 
us, are still in rebellion against God.' ^ 

And again, speaking of the Training Home at Clapton for 
preparing 'officers' for their work, Mr. Railton says: — 

*Let us not be misunderstood. We shall never, we trust, so 
utterly mistake our path as to encourage any one to try to ape the 
ministry. We trust the Salvation Army will never be crippled with a 
college, a theological seminary, a mutual improvement society, or a 
singing class.* ^ 

Yet Churchmen must not misunderstand this refusal to 
take up the position of a sect. It must be remembered that we 
are not dealing now with a movement which, like Montanism, 
like Donatism, like the Mendicant Orders, like Lollardry, like 
Methodism, had its origin within the bosom of the Church. 
The Salvationists rightly describe themselves, in the above 
quotation, as being * without the Church.' We have to con- 
sider whether and on what terms they can be brought in 
among us, not how to manipulate them so as not to lose 
them. And such being their origin, their feelings towards us 
are naturally not what those of other revival movements have 
been. Mr. Booth has probably almost forgotten by this time 

^ Heathen England^ p. 144. ^ Ibid, p. 184. 

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1 882. The Salvation Army. 123 

that he owes anything to the Catholic Mother on whose 
bosom he was nursed during his first fourteen years of life ; 
and for all we know, his debt, or the sense of it, may have 
been indefinitely diminished by carelessness on the part of 
those ministers of hers who should have trained him. The 
objection of the Salvationists to forming a sect, is not — they 
frankly confess — grounded upon a yearning for Christian 
unity, or a sense of the guilt of schism, or a belief in the order 
established by the Founder of the Church ; all that they 
object to, apparently, is the settling down into those orderly 
habits of Christian life which to the Methodists were their 
special and eponymous aim. We fear, from what we read, 
that they have not the slightest respect for the Church, 
though they may respect individual Churchmen. Mr. Colville, 
one of their chief ' colonels,' and by birth a gentleman, ap- 
pears to make a point of announcing frequently — with neither 
more nor less shame than another of their men will show in 
announcing that he was a drunkard — how he was once *a 
High Churchman,* and sang in a surpliced choir. It is left to 
be understood that, because he was spiritually blind when he 
practised these things, therefore all who practise them must 
be blind also. One of the best and most devout of their 
female speakers whom we have heard, whose touching appeals 
—far richer in thought and doctrine than most — show at 
every moment where she was taught, impresses continually 
jupon her ignorant audience that once she 'used to go to 
church twice a Sunday,' and that * perhaps if she had con- 
tinued to do so, she might never have known what peace 
was.' If any voice of ours can reach these good people, we 
would earnestly implore them not to leave statements of this 
kind bare and unqualified. 

And, indeed, in spite of their disclaimer, it seems probable 
that they must strictly be called a sect already. We do not 
know how to define a sect, unless it is a body of persons 
incorporated for religious purposes independent of the Apo- 
stolic Church. There are societies now within the Church, as 
there were in earlier days, which lack but a touch to push 
them off into being sects ; they still formally profess obedi- 
ence to the divinely-appointed government of the Church, 
and they communicate with her. But we have no such link 
with the Salvationists ; and the only difference which exists 
between them and any other religious body separated from us 
is this, that they have not yet attempted (in their own words) 
* to ape the ministry,' or to administer, as a piece of regular 
discipline, any substitute for the Blessed Sacraments. In this 

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124 The Salvation Army, Apra 

respect they stand in much the same relation to us as the 
Quakers do, with this distinction, that the Quakers are un- 
baptized, while we may assume that most of those who join 
the Army have been previously baptized — (we do not hear of 
their ever baptizing their converts) — and are so far, indi- 
vidually, children of the Church they have strayed from. 
But even this hope seems now to be precarious. An inte- 
resting correspondence took place in the Record newspaper 
last February, in which it came out that, although Mrs. Booth 
claimed for the Salvation Army that it was no sect, on the 
express ground that the Sacraments were not administered, ' 

the facts were not wholly on her side. * Commissioner " 
Railton, in answer to a letter which showed that something 
purporting to be a Sacrament was administered, and adminis- 
tered by women, made the following melancholy avowal : — 

* It is true that in some of our corps the Sacrament, administered 
there first by Mr. Booth, is still received monthly, and that in this, 
as in everything else, the Lord's own principle of there being * neither 
male nor female ' in Christ Jesus is fully acted upon. But the num- 
ber of the corps which have any such regular system of Sacramental 
administration is very small indeed. It must be remembered that 
until recently there has been no way open to us but to have the 
Sacrament administered by our own officers ; and we certainly repu- 
diate the sacerdotal theory that only a certain sort of bishop can 
confer the right to break bread in the name of the Lord Jesus ! ' * 

The question, then, is seen to be this : Can we draw into j 

Catholic communion a religious society which had its origin 
outside of us, composed of men who see no harm in being 
separated from us, whose prejudices are all against us, who 
* certainly repudiate ' the notion that they would be the richer 
for contact with the Apostolic ministry ? The prospect looks 
very hopeless. It is evident that at present they would sacri- 
fice nothing for the sake of union with us, because they do not 
see what would be gained by the union. And, on the other 
hand, it is evident that the Church could not admit them as a 
body without requiring some important modifications of their 
procedure. Yet we cannot but think that the effort is well 
worth making. And how is it to be made 1 They cannot be 
admitted by private members of the Church, nor even, perhaps* 
by a solitary bishop. There would be no need to appeal to 
the legislature ; but the act must be an official act. With the 
most profound submission, we venture to suggest that, in our 
opinion, no harm at least could come of it, if his Grace the 

1 Record, February 8, 1882. 

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3882. The Salvation Army. 125 

Archbishop of Canterbury, or a committee of bishops, such as 
those of Durham, Salisbury, Ely, Truro, and Rochester, who 
are known to be interested in the work of home missions, 
were to invite some of the leaders of the Army to a private 
conference, and see what they feel. If this be thought impos- 
sible, might not the Lower House of Convocation make some 
move in the matter ? Time is passing by. If ever this great 
revival is to find its home within the Church, the moment is 
now present. Large bodies of men, which stand apart from 
^each other, are not drawn together except by personal con- 
ference. Is it not possible that, with the Divine blessing on 
^uch an interview, the Salvationists might be touched at 
learning from our bishops how warmly the heart of the Holy 
Church beats towards any generous endeavour, and might 
recognize what strength there is in the unity which Christ en- 
joined and pleaded for 1 Is it not possible that, seeing why 
we wish them to become Catholics, they might then be willing 
to submit themselves to the yoke of a holy discipline, and to 
purify their movement from those things which make it unfit 
for the Church to adopt ? 

Meanwhile, the way may be prepared by more private 
experiments, such as have been tried, not unsuccessfully, in 
various places. At Nottingham, Canon Morse, encouraged 
\yy a discussion at a gathering of clergy there, invited the 
captain of the Nottingham corps to bring his people to a 
special service at S. Mary*s. The proposal was hailed with 
acclamation ; and on the appointed evening 800 of them, 
with band and flags, and officers in full regimentals, came to 
church, where the canon preached to them. The service 
appears to have been wonderfully hearty, and the fervour with 
which the canon's hand was grasped by all who could reach 
him afterwards was very remarkable. Canon Morse then pro- 
posed that the Salvationists should pay a weekly visit to S. 
Mary's ; but this * General ' Booth thought himself compelled 
courteously to decline, while expressing a hope that such 
services might often be held elsewhere. At Newcastle, the 
Archdeacon of Northumberland invited the Salvation Army 
to accompany him on a preaching expedition through the 
streets of his parish. Preceded by their brass band, he, with 
his choir and another clergyman, marched in procession, in 
surplices, through the lower parts of the town. ' The whole 
had a most solemn and imposing appearance,' says the War 
Cry of January 12, *as the procession marched down Dog 
Bank, singing **Rock of Ages." At Stockbridge the arch- 
deacon delivered a most impressive address, and it was evi- 

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126 The Salvatio7t Army. April 

dent from the demeanour and attention of the crowd that the 
earnest words spoken were well received. A hymn was sung^ 
as the procession made its way up Silver Street to the church. 
We certainly think,' continues the War Cry, * that the Church 
and its high officials have taken their true position by show- 
ing how willing and how capable the Church is of utilizing 
all agencies that are attempting true religious work.' The 
sentiment thus expressed strikes us as well worth noting ; and 
we wish the archdeacon God-speed in his wise endeavours. 
But more. It is time that we should quote the remainder of 
Mr. Railton's letter to the Record, of which a part was given 
above, which will show that in some places the rapprochemejit 
has been carried to a still more sacred length, and that the 
Army authorities are glad of it. After saying that until 
recently their only way of obtaining ' the Sacrament ' was to 
administer it themselves, he adds : — * Of late, however, several 
clergymen, . . . acquainted with our work in their own 
parishes, . . . have offered the Sacrament to our corps. No 
such offer has ever been refused, or is ever likely to be/ Since 
that letter was penned, 400 of the Salvationists received the 
Blessed Sacrament in a church at York on February 26, under 
the sanction of the metropolitan. We are not told how many 
of these were confirmed, or ready and desirous to be con- 
firmed. We should earnestly deprecate rashness and irregu- 
larity in multiplying such offers ; but the words of Mr. Railton 
suggest some hope for the future. 

But even if we are to give up as visionary the idea of 
attaching the Salvation Army to the Church, there are at least 
lessons which the Church may well learn from it. May we not 
place first and foremost on the list of those lessons, the need 
of making our Christianity a more ' aggressive Christianity ' 
than it is.? While abhorring Calvinism, Churchmen have too 
much acted on the Calvinistic principle that if people are to 
have any good done to them, they will come and ask for it. 
They have made their services and sanctuaries as bright and 
attractive and popular as they can, and then they expect 
the populace to come to them. District-visitors, as well as 
the clergy, go round the parish, and beat the people up, not 
often, however, seeing any but the women. In hope of gain- 
ing persons who are too shabbily dressed to attend the 
church, services are held in mission-rooms and schools, often 
very successfully. From time to time, at long intervals, 
an attempt is made to reach further into the heart of the 
people by a mission. Individual souls are converted ; many 
are observed in church who have not gone there for years 

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i882. The Salvation Army. 127 

before ; towards the end of the time a certain degree of awe 
seems perceptible throughout the city or town. But for one 
thing, the mission is generally too short to have much per- 
manent effect on the population as a whole : the inevitable 
result of the priesthood in England being wholly appropriated 
to parochial cures. And even in the missions, if people da 
not choose to come in answer to letters, placards, the appeals 
of district-visitors, and the natural curiosity roused by seeing' 
others go, the Church seems nonplussed. The Church people 
seem very well satisfied if the parish church has been filled 
every evening, as it usually is. But the parish church will 
often hold not a tithe of the parishioners. Even with the 
supplemental aid of a mission-room, the numbers who have 
found accommodation at the mission are not very large. 
The mission comes to an end, and a tremendous residuum of 
the population has been completely untouched. And if 
bright services at church, and cottage meetings, and occasional 
special missions all fail, we have nothing more to turn to. If 
the people will not come, they must perish. 

Would it not be better if there were among us more of 
the spirit which animates the following words } — 

* We should build churches and chapels ; we should invite the 
people to them ; \\x\. do you think it is consistent with these two. 
commissions (St. Mark xvi. 15 ; Acts xxvi. 17, 18), and with many 
others, that we should rest in this, when three parts of the population 
utterly ignore our invitations, and take no notice whatever of our 
buildings and of our services ? They will not come to us. That is an 
established fact What is to be done? They have souls. You 
profess to believe that as much as I do, and that they must live for 
ever. Where are they going? What is to be done ? Jesus Christ 
says, " Go after them." When all the civil methods have Vailed ; when 
the genteel invitations have failed ; when one man says that he has 
married a wife, and another that he has bought a yoke of oxen, and 
another that he has bought a piece of land, then does the master of 
the feast say, "The ungrateful wretches ! let them alone?" No. He 
says, " Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to 
come in, that my house may be filled. I will have guests, and if you 
can't get them in by civil measures, use military measures. Go and 
compel them to come in." It seems to me that we want more of this 
determined aggressive spirit Those of you who are right with God 
this afternoon — you want more of this spirit to thrust the truth upon 
the attention of your fellow-men. Oh ! people say, you must be 
very careful, very judicious .... What ! am I to let my unconverted 
friends and acquaintances drift down quietly to damnation, and 
never tell them about their souls, until they say, " If you please, I 
want you to preach to me ? " Is this anything like the spirit of early 
Christianity ? No. Verily, we must make them look — tear the ban- 

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128 The Salvation Army. April 

dages off, " open their eyes," make them bear it ; and if they run away 
from you in one place, meet them in another, and let them have no 
peace until they submit to God and get their souls saved. This is 
what Christianity ought to be doing in this land, and there are plenty 
of Christians to do it Why, we might give the world such a time of 
it that they would get saved in very self-defence^ if we were only up 
and doing, and determined that they should have no peace in their 
sins/ * 

It is true that patience and reliance upon the secret 
operations of grace, in answer to faithful prayer, have always 
been characteristic of the Church. She teaches her children 
not to be always looking for striking results, sudden con- 
versions, sensible assurances, signs and wonders. To try the 
effect of psychical and carnal methods, because apparent 
failure attends the use of spiritual methods, would be un- 
worthy of the Bride of Him who was crucified. Still it can- 
not be forgotten that England has virtually become, as the 
Salvationists say, * Heathen England ; ' and the highest 
Authority of all has bidden us not to be afraid of bringing 
out of our treasure things new as well as old. All things 
which are not sinful in themselves belong to the Church of 
right, to be employed when she sees fit. * We are as free,* 
says Mrs. Booth, * as air and sunlight as to our choice of 
agencies, and it is time the Church woke up to this.'^ An 
illustrious English bishop, whom no one can accuse of crude 
and hasty judgments, is remembered to have said some years 
ago, before the Salvation Army arose, in addressing a com- 
pany of Cambridge students, that if anything great was to be 
done by the Church in the present day, it must be done in an 
unconventional manner, and that without servilely copying 
the methods, it must be done in the spirit, of S. Francis of 
Assisi. It would have been difficult to describe more closely 
the movement inaugurated by the Salvation Army, than to 
say that it is animated by the spirit of S. Francis, though 
adapting itself to England and the nineteenth century. Its 
very oddities recall many similar features in the Franciscan 
revival. Both movements took their rise from the heart of 
the lowest of the people, and both have had power over the 
lowest of the people for that very reason. There is in both 
the very spirit of the mob recoiling from its coarse ungodli- 
ness, and striving after religion in a pathetic, blind way, and 
acknowledging ironically its own foolishness with tears and 
laughter. It is indeed possible to exaggerate, on the one 

^ Aggressive Christianity^ First Address, p. lo.' 
^ Ibid., Third Address, p. 15. 

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i882. The Salvation Army. 129 

hand, the connexion of the Salvation Army with the lowest 
classes ; for any one who attends their meetings will see how 
largely the attendance is composed of young clerks and shop 
assistants. It is easy, on the other hand, to exaggerate the 
alienation of the lowest classes from the Church ; they are far 
more alienated from Methodism, for instance, than from us. 
The work of Mr. Lowder at London Docks, not to mention 
other familiar names, proves how congenial a home the lowest 
classes find in the Church, when once it is interpreted to them. 
But, roughly speaking, the Church has lost the masses ; and 
the Salvation Army has found them. The Church should, 
therefore, welcome the strange upheaval ; and even if she can- 
not formally join forces with the existing Army, she can try, 
by following their example in a wiser way, to meet the same 
need which they are trying to meet. Words of the Tablet on 
the subject come to mind which we may appropriate, reading 
into them ouV own sense : — 

*Nor, so far as we can learn, do these rough, untutored 
•enthusiasts hinder the work of better teachers. They reach a class 
which the more decent sects of Protestantism do not touch ; a class 
where, as we believe, there is a vast harvest to be reaped by the 
Catholic Church, in the hour — not now, we hope, far distant — when 
the labourers are ready to go forth to reap it.' 

It is not possible to take up every point in which the 
Salvation Army appears to suggest useful hints. There 
seems to be no reason, for instance, why the Church should 
not provide a half-penny religious newspaper weekly, that 
would be as spicy Vs the * War Cry I and appeal to the same 
xank of society, while conveying a more salutary teaching. 
There are many good Churchmen capable of undertaking a 
work of that nature, who would not be too fastidious to adopt 
to a certain degree the language of the class they cater for. 
Again — though we should probably decline to adopt the ad- 
jective ' Hallelujah ' as applied to them — if * Ham Teas ' are 
found to be popular, why should there not be a more frequent 
use of something analogous among ourselves } Those who 
are acquainted with the large confraternities connected with 
S. Andrew's, Wells Street, know what an important factor in 
them the tea-meetings form. The social side of Christianity 
is even yet too little brought into notice, and among the 
lowest classes some modern form of the Agape might be 
extremely useful ; where the body might be well nourished 
(not necessarily gratis), opportunity of friendly intercourse 
provided, and some good simple religious addresses given. 

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130 The Salvation Army. April 

Again, though we should be very sorry to have * Moody and 
Sankey ' or * Salvation Songs ' introduced, on any occasion, 
into our consecrated churches, where the presence of much 
balderdash in the most popular of our hymnals is already 
trying enough, yet Church versifiers might well purvey, for use 
at irregular meetings, simple verses with a good doctrinal tone 
which might be sung to taking airs with good choruses. 
If S. Augustine could condescend to write a Psalmus 
Abecedaritis against the Donatists, with a lively chorus, the 
work cannot be beneath us. 

But there are three special points on which we should like 
to dwell a little. The first is the advisability of doing more 
work in the open air than has been common lately in the 
Church. The Salvationists have taught us to see once more 
how much may be done there. The people will not come 
to church, nor to any other of our buildings, yet awhile. 
They have to be shown the way in by our first going to them. 
Street preaching is almost sure to win attention, and more 
than ever when Churchmen take to it. Long habit has made 
the people think that Churchmen can only *pray from a 
form,' that they know of no religion except within the four 
walls of the church, that the parsons are paid to go through 
a certain routine of services, and care for nothing more. It 
comes home to them with surprise when they see the clergy- 
man take his stand in the alley or by the roadside, accom- 
panied by a band of faithful men, and after singing a hymn 
begin to preach a simple extempore sermon. We have known 
cases where the parish clergyman has long laboured in vain 
to bring rough miners or fishermen to the church ; but 
directly he has gone to the hedge or the beach where they 
lounge, they have flocked from every side, and have listened 
with tiie deepest attention and respect. We cannot but 
think that it would be a point gained if some regular out- 
door preaching-stations were appointed in various places, like 
Old Paul's Cross, where sermons might be regularly delivered. 
But preaching is not the only thing which the Salvationists 
have shown to be useful out of doors. Has not the Church 
lost much by so seldom appearing out of doors in her majesty 
and beauty } The sight of a great procession, whether silent 
or singing, has always a profound effect upon English spec- 
tators. Would it not be well, at special seasons, like the 
Rogation Days or Holy Week, and at some great festivals, to 
let those who never see the inside of a church have a chance 
of watching choir and clergy in their robes, together with as 
many of the faithful laity as can come, and members of the 

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i882. The Salvation Army. 131 

guilds with their badges, file slowly through the streets, 
singing the solemn strains of the Litany, or of the Psalms, or 
of suitable hymns ? The impression produced upon the War 
Cryy and upon the secular press of Newcastle as well, by the 
sight of the procession in which Archdeacon Watkins walked 
appears to have been very great One of the Newcastle 
papers called it as * sensational ' a coup as anything done by 
the Salvationists themselves, and expressed its conviction 
that the display was most salutary. And if in some towns 
the Church procession should suffer some of the same treat- 
ment that the Salvationists have suffered, we are not prepared 
to say that the Church would lose anything by it. 

The second point which we notice is this. The great aim 
of the Salvation Army is to make all their converts begin at 
once to give testimony to what God has done for them, in 
public meetings. There are great and obvious dangers con- 
nected with this course. We ourselves should strongly depre- 
cate it, at least without much modification. But the time seems 
to be come when on all hands it is recognized that a large 
development of lay preaching is necessary. It is quite im- 
possible that the clergy — so few in number as they are in 
proportion to the population — should do all the preaching 
work that is required. Many of the most excellent among 
them have no trace of a gift that way ; it is clear that God 
never intended them for preachers, but for other (perhaps 
far higher) functions of the ministry. Among the laity there 
are many thousands, who at present are only listeners, who 
have latent within themselves the power to become most 
effective preachers. It is not our proposal that the laity should 
preach in church — though, under proper sanctions, we can 
believe this innovation might in some cases be found as useful 
as that which startled Africa when Bishop Valerius commanded 
the priest Augustine to preach in his presence. But at no 
period of Church history that we are aware of have the laity 
been debarred from giving religious addresses extra ecclesiam. 
It is there, in the mission-room, the town-hall, the market-place, 
the back slums — anywhere and everywhere if a congregation 
can be gathered — that we should wish to hear the laity taking 
their turn along with the clergy. But it is not only the cultured 
laity, such as might well be admitted to the order of Readers, 
whose voices we should wish to hear on those occasions. 
There is no reason why every sincere Churchman should not 
speak. The Salvationists have proved to demonstration that 
upon the masses of our population not educated eloquence 
nor long sermons produce the greatest effect. It is the 

K 2 

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132 The Salvation Army. April 

simple personal witness of men of their own class whose 
hearts God has touched, and who do not mind rising up one 
after another and saying, in a couple of ungrammatical 
sentences, that they are the happier and better for knowing 
the saving truth. There are great numbers of illiterate men 
who never would make ' local preachers,' or anything of the 
kind, who could be safely trusted to say that they never knew 
what joy was till they found it in prayer, or in reading the 
Bible, or at the altar, or even in the confessional ; and such 
testimonies would tell upon their hearers more than the 
clearest expositions of scriptural texts, or the sermons of our 
most powerful missioners. It would of course be necessary 
that these men should go under the charge of some wise 
person, who would be able to stop any utterances that might 
be unedifying. But in this way the masses can be reached 
when perhaps nothing else can reach them : — 

* Are there not teeming thousands round about you who never 
heard the Name of Jesus, and who care nothing for Him, who live 
every day trampling His law under their feet ? For Christ's sake send 
somebody after them. If they will not have your doctors of divinity 
and your polished divines, get hold of fishermen and costermongers 
and send them. Let the people have a chance for their souls.' * 

One good lay preacher going forth accompanied by half 
a dozen such honest Christian fellows would find himself in 
a strong position ; and few better ways could be devised for 
training men to be lay preachers themselves, than to let them 
begin with a few short sentences at first among a number of 
other speakers. 

And will it bring an indelible taint of heresy upon this 
Review^ if we venture on a still further and bolder inquiry ? 
Is the question finally, irrevocably settled, that women are on 
no occasion to speak publicly in suitable places on religious 
topics } When S. Paul says, ' Let your women keep silence 
in the churches,* is it absolutely certain that his meaning is 
not explained by the clause following, that if they wish for 
elucidations, they are to ask their husbands at home, instead 
of interrupting the speaker ' in the church ? ' When the same 
Apostle says, ' I suffer not a woman to teach,' may he not 
possibly mean that he forbids women to be made authoritative 
exponents of the Christian tradition, or to make themselves 
arbiters of the orthodoxy of their ministers, as in spite of 
his prohibition they sometimes do ; for he continues, ' nor to 
usurp authority over the man ? ' If he did indeed mean that 

1 Aggressive Christianity^ Third Address, p. 16. 

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i882. The Salvation Army. 133 

no woman was to * teach,' alas for our Sunday schools, and 
for many other branches of Church instruction ! The teach- 
ing work of women in sisterhoods, and mission houses, and 
penitentiaries, would all be doomed if we are literally to 
understand that no woman is to teach. One of our greatest 
needs in the present day is the establishment of some kind 
of order of Scetirs Chr^tienfies, to undertake religious in- 
struction in the day schools ; but we must pause, if S. Paul' 
has laid his inspired ban upon all teaching by women. The 
same Apostle has another passage, in which he asserts that a 
woman praying or prophesying with her head uncovered dis- 
honours her head. There can be but little doubt that he is 
speaking of what takes place at public Church gatherings. 
Can it be confidently denied that, in prescribing how the 
woman was to be attired while praying or prophesying in 
public, he gave sanction to the usage? Was he shocked, 
and did he protest, when, staying in the house of Philip the 
Evangelist, he discovered that the Evangelist's four daughters 
all prophesied } As we have said that we are unprepared 
to welcome laymen as preachers in church, the assertion need 
not be repeated with an d fortiori in regard to women. Far 
be from all whom we love the Salvationist interpretation of 
S. Paul's principle of * neither male nor female in Christ* 
The horror with which the Apostolical Constitutions condemn 
any public liturgical ministrations of women as heathen and 
not Christian ought to be felt by all : and preaching, in the 
course of any of the solemn offices of the Church, partakes of 
the liturgical character. If women are ever to be allowed to 
preach, they should certainly be restricted to unconsecrated 
buildings and to informal occasions. But we have no scruple 
in saying, that so far as our experience of the Salvation 
Army is concerned, the power would be gone from its meet- 
ings if the women were silent. While the men often repel, 
by their business-like air, their jocularity, their self-satisfaction, 
their irreverence in prayer, in the addresses of the women, 
and in their prayers, the congregation cannot fail to be moved 
by the sincerity, the modesty, the devoutness, the love of souls, 
the self-forgetfulness, which is so prominent in nearly all of 
them. We should like every one to read — it is too long to 
quote here, and we should spoil it by cutting it down — the 
touching account which Mrs. Booth gives ^ in one of her lec- 
tures of the way in which she at last yielded to her husband's 
wishes and began publicly to ' witness for Christ.' Men, at 

* Aggressive Christianity^ Seventh Address, pp. 14-19. 

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134 John Inglesant. April 

least, who read that account — ^whatever her sisters may think 
— will be disposed not to condemn her too harshly. A far 
smaller proportion of women than of men would be found 
qualified to give religious discourses, as we believe many 
Quakers would feelingly testify. And feeble sermons from 
women would be quite as intolerable to most hearers as feeble 
sermons from men. But that some women have a wonderful 
gift for public speaking no one will deny who has heard 
addresses from Miss Hammond, or Mrs. Josephine Butler, or 
Mrs. Pearsall Smith, whatever he may have thought of the 
matter of their speeches. God does undoubtedly give to some 
persons gifts which He does not mean them to exercise on 
earth ; is this quite assuredly a case in point ? It is easy to 
show the weakness of arguments for the preaching of women 
based on such passages as Psalm Ixviii. 1 1 ^ or Isaiah xl. 9, 
where the female * preachers ' spoken of are either choirs of 
women singing patriotic choruses or cities personified. It is 
easy to show that the traditions of the Church have been 
against the preaching of women, and that a Maximilla in the 
early days, or a Joanna Southcote in modern times, are not 
reckoned among Catholic luminaries. The whole span of 
Church history, from the Apostolic age till now, contains no 
names of great female preachers, with the one illustrious ex- 
ception of S. Catharine. But if the thing was allowed by 
the Apostles in their time, and if even once the Church has 
since allowed the same, is it not conceivable that the circum- 
stances of our age may make it right for the Church, in the 
amplitude of her authority, to use an ancient force once more, 
and, under as severe restrictions as she may please, to give 
leave, in the words of Joel and S. Peter, for her daughters 
again to prophesy } 


John Inglesant: a Romance. By J. H. Shorthouse. Two 
Volumes. Second Edition. (London, 1882.) 

How are we to review a book which everybody has already 
read, and everybody has discussed } A notice such as we 
now offer proposes in general to call attention to a book ; it 

* It must be remembered that, in Psalm Ixviii. 1 1, the LXX has the 
masculine, not the feminine. 

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i882. yohn InglesanL 135 

may be to excite interest, it may be to pronounce a warning, 
to admit the public through open and inviting gates, or to 
terrify it with prophetic utterances on the subject of spring- 
guns ; but in either case, to anticipate and assist its judg- 
ment But with John Inglesant the work of judgment is 
mostly passed. Those who have not yet heard of it may 
well be suspected of playing croquet, or of decorating their 
rooms with light French blues, or of any such primeval and 
abysmal aberration. What, then, can we attempt in a notice 
such as now we write ? Not to praise. This is needless. 
The world is long ago convinced that it has gained a most 
remarkable and powerful work ; and this conviction we can 
but cordially endorse. The book is well worth the interest 
that it has aroused. It deals with the deepest interests of 
life ; it handles them with quick and searching knowledge 
of the problems that are involved ; it throws this knowledge 
out in a style that charms and fascinates by its lucidity, and 
freshness, and nerve ; it treats its subjects widely and richly ; 
and, finally, it vitalizes its study of life by a dramatic impulse 
that can use with peculiar skill and force the situations of 
an historical moment in English life which still thrills us 
to the depths by its passions and its struggles, and which 
holds in its romantic episodes a vivid and startling picture 
of the confused agitations of our own day. No wonder that 
a most unwonted interest has been roused by the sudden 
successful portrayal of the profound religious anxieties, amid 
which we toss, in the guise and shape of that particular 
period of our history which has for us such an undying, and 
enthralling, and passionate charm. The sweep and rush of 
spiritual tides : who is there that does not strongly feel 
them } The romance, the pathos, the heroic splendour, the 
tragic sorrows, of Charles and the Cavaliers : who is there 
that does not feel their unfailing power of dramatic beauty ? 
And it is these two interests, both so deep, so varied, so stirring, 
so electric, that the author of John Inglesant has succeeded 
in combining, and has so combined that they have become 
one thing ; and though we feel that it is our own inward life 
which is being searched, and probed, and judged, and clarified, 
yet the drama in which this spiritual examination expresses 
itself never loses reality, or sinks into the thin disguise of 
allegory, or fails to hold us within the range of its own proper 
and inherent attraction, or drops its historic mask, or forces 
its situations to meet modern contingences, or irritates by an 
offensive insistance on its moral application, or disturbs 
and dispels the atmosphere which it breathes about us. Its 

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136 yohn Inglesant. AprU 

scenery, its circumstance, preserve throughout their solid 
identity ; we never feel them to be a mere picture through 
which we might thrust a stick. We walk in and about a 
living world of men and women ; we do not wake at all from 
our dream until we close the book and lie back and think, and 
feel then that it is we ourselves whose riddle has been so 
artfully embodied. No premonitory knock at the door rouses 
us beforetimes from our happy visions to give us a hideous 
and abrupt sense of the boots and the hot water on which 
practical life, with its terrible urgency, will at the end so. 
rigorously insist. Indeed we wondered, as we read the author's 
preface to the second edition, whether he himself quite knew^ 
or intended, the dramatic interest of his book to be so absorb- 
ing as it actually proves itself to be. It is true that in his 
preface he expresses the power of romance in a most beautiful 
passage of eager apology, but this passage itself is a sort of 
palinode for having called romance * a subordinate element * 
two pages before ; and he speaks just before that again of the 
* startling plot ' that he fortunately could make it his object to 
avoid ; and again, of the characters vanishing from the stage 
after fulfilling their purpose. We do not wish to press these 
words ; their general drift is clear and defensible enough. 
Only we say that they hardly seem to represent a conscious- 
ness in the author that one of the chief impressions left on a 
reader of his book will be certainly admiration for its 
' picturesque effect,' for its dramatic excellencies. There are 
limitations to be set on this account of the book, which we 
will say more about in a moment ; but we frankly confess 
that what we most emphatically recognized, as we read, was 
a power of seizing and embodying a situation, which seemed 
to us most effective, most artistic, most masterful : so 
masterful indeed that the artistic interest, at these special 
moments, dominated over the philosophical. The appear- 
ance of the Ghost of Strafford to the King, with its strain of 
hushed expectancy, its suddenness of break, the quick thrill 
of the sentry's cry, the silence that grew terrible after the 
revelation to the King, the swift passing of the whole, the final 
loneliness of Charles : all this is charged with a high-wrought 
intensity which is above all else dramatic. It is the situation 
that carries with it the surpassing effect : the situation as 
such, and not as an embodiment of philosophical interests. 
And this is markedly true of such scenes as that at Chester 
between Inglesant and Biron, and that, above all, of the trial 
at London, with its imminent execution. The touch by which 
Inglesant reveals to Biron the secret of the situation, by the 

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i882. John Inglesant. 137 

rapid look of relief at his own conviction for foigery, is artistic 
in the highest degree. The only shade of regret that crossed 
our admiration at the first reading of this passage was the 
thought of the pain it would provoke in Mr. Browning to dis- 
cover what a situation he had missed in securing. What ha& 
he been about that he should have suffered Mr. Shorthouse 
to get hold of it.^ Again, the discovery of the wretched 
Guardino in the second volume is complete in powerful 
management of a vivid moment ; and we have not yet men- 
tioned the pardon of the brother's murderer in the hill-side 
chapel in the splendour of the lovely Italian morning, so 
luminous, so delicate, so bathed in glorious sun ; nor the 
murder of Eustace itself, after the ride through the dreaming 
woods and the thick winter air, under the pressure of agonizing 
yet stupefying forebodings ; nor the crisis with Lauretta in 
the oppressive malarious night, broken by the swift sudden 
breath of recurring dawn. No one of these moments fails in 
most excellent and thrilling force : the force of the drama, 
the force of picturesque plot, a force so emphatic as to expel 
all other rival interests. 

And here we will venture on a slight quarrel with our 
author. What we have said of especial moments does not 
apply, we seem to feel, to the book as a whole. As a whole 
the dramatic arrangement is loose, and slightly ineffective. 
As a whole it corresponds to the idea given in the preface 
of its object For purposes of philosophical interest, so the 
author pleads, chariacters need not be completed ; the plot 
need not concentrate or focus itself ; the situation need not 
work itself out in all its details ; men may come and go, 
vanishing when they have said their say. Indeed, in real life 
he pleads it is so ; every incident must be real and living ; but 
still the sum of incidents will not gather themselves together 
into decided outlines ; a certain indefiniteness will suffuse 
itself through the whole ; incidental scenes will stamp marked 
impressions on a life, yet will themselves lead to nothing 
further in fact ; powerful effects will strike across a soul's 
history from outside, yet will spring from causes that do not 
intertwine their actual history with his. This the author 
holds, we gather ; and in virtue of this plea he deems it need- 
less to weld his whole mass of incident into a single, solid, and 
compact body. He takes advantage of this plea to plunge 
Inglesant into sudden contact with persons and things which 
leave permanent and vivid impressions, and yet which are 
not taken up into the story ; or again, are dropped with dis- 
appointing surprise to us out of the consequent tale. The 

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138 John Inglesant. April 

. _» 

philosophical, the spiritual interest, is sufficient ; it justifies 
itself, pleads Mr. Shorthouse. And so it might, we retort, if 
we had not become too startlingly affected by the personal 
interest of the separate situations by themselves. But these 
have laid hold of us too deeply to be easily let go ; we have 
been stirred beyond the possibility of acquiesence in this light 
dismissal of incidents and personages so profoundly emotional ; 
we cannot drop back into a mere nodding acquaintance with 
men and women to whom we have been bound by the intense 
sympathy that belongs to critical and desperate emergencies. 
We are carried away with the excitement of the rescue at 
Newnham, and we are distressed never to come across the 
actors again at all We find ourselves suddenly rapt into the 
mystery of Eustace's murder, which determines, in its issue, 
the whole of the second volume ; and yet we have not been 
led up to a sufficient interest in Eustace to feel adequate to 
the emergency. Lauretta is disposed of by the most rapid 
means that necessity could admit of. Giordino is brought 
through the vivid perils of that most terrible plague at 
Naples, yet we do not really care the least for Giordino. 
The author has his defence, and we know it ; but we plead 
that his dramatic skill has been too emphatic to allow for his 
defence. If the whole book was to be so loosely dramatized, 
in view of the dominance of its speculative interests, as a 
romantic setting to the evolution of a spiritual crisis of the 
inner life, then the separate incidents have, by their artistic 
intensity, exceeded the measure which the intention of the 
book permitted. They catch us, they enthral us ; we cannot 
lightly drop them. They compel us, by their very success, 
to expect a continuous and compact plot ; and we are disap- 
pointed when we do not get it. The story has won upon us 
until we demand its completion ; and the result is that we 
feel the story to be flagging, whenever the plot does not 
proceed, though these intervals of pause in the plot are 
evidently, to the author, charged with his deepest philo- 
sophical teaching. The elaborate portrayal of the Italian 
Renaissance at the Court of the Duke of Umbria is a notable 
instance of what we mean. Speculatively, this period in 
Inglesanfs mental development is crucial, is momentous ; but 
the story hangs ; the incidents have the effect of being out- 
side the dramatic movement of the tale ; they do not carry 
it obviously forward ; they are dropped altogether, when the 
story recommences. The thrill of rapid action, which fills 
the whole first volume, has been too intense to allow of this 
long pause : the pause is essential to the speculative theme. 

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i8S2. yohn InglesanL 139 

but its justification has been made impossible by the very 
brilliancy of the artistic success which has preceded it. The 
reader has been worked into an excited condition which is 
ill-suited for the calmer study of inward character on which 
the author has his eye fixed. 

All this makes us doubt whether Mr. Shorthouse is quite 
conscious of his power of picturesque romance. It certainly 
perplexes the reader of his book, and slightly weakens its 
effectiveness; the public is puzzled by a work so vividly 
dramatic in its separate moments, so intentionally undra- 
matic in its effect as a whole. In most philosophical 
romances the philosophy has killed the romance. In John 
Inglesant it seems to us that the romance has been a little 
too much for the philosophy. 

And shall we audaciously venture to carry a little further 
our complaint against the author's philosophy } We will 
only presume to do so, because the expression of our enthu- 
siastic admiration for the book is really needless in view of 
its achieved popularity. We will allow ourselves, then, to 
say that the effect on the book of the philosophical, as dis- 
tinct from the religious, interest is, to our minds, slightly 
unlucky. This interest may be summed up in the word 
Platonism ; and there are few words more pregnant with high 
and splendid meaning. The author knows the inspira- 
tion that breathes from those wonderful lips, from that golden 
utterance. But the eagle flight of Plato upward into the 
great sun has always the effect of making the plain world 
we walk about seem to reel and spin : it loses solidity and 
reality ; it shakes and quivers in vague uncertainty ; it grows 
faint and glamorous. And this effect of Platonism haunts 
John Inglesant, as it seems to us. It has, indeed, its v,'onted 
force in stamping upon his soul the strong need of moving 
under the pressure of Divine things, of piercing through shell 
and husk to the Divine life behind and beyond ; but this 
impulse once set moving, it does but little to fulfil or satisfy 
its aspirations. John Inglesant is left to find his actual way 
by other lights than those that Plato offers ; and his Plato- 
nism, therefore, is left to account for, and blend with, certain 
tendencies towards a mystic supematuralism, strange and 
uncanny, lurking in the by-ways of mystery ; and this, again, 
belongs to a certain unhealthy unsteadiness of head in Ingle- 
sant himself. He has moods of curious trance. Earth melts 
from him ; visions assault him ; his hands lose their grasp 
on real life ; he is dazzled and made dizzy by the whirl of 
fleeting, vaporous things. All this allows the author to bring 

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140 yohn Inglesant, April 

in some curious knowledge, some vivid pictures characteristic 
of the time ; but it, nevertheless, induces us to feel the weak- 
ness, rather than the strength, both of John Inglesant and 
also of Platonic tendencies. We are kept uncomfortably- 
aware that ' man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth 
himself in vain.' The * fallings from us, the vanishings, the 
blank misgivings,' do not seem to leave on us the impression 
of spiritual mastery ; they do not uphold or cherish ; rather, 
they perplex and afflict ; we seem, in them, to be touched with 
sickness, with masterless confusion between fact and fiction, 
between waking and dreaming. 

We cannot but think that the power of the Christian Reve- 
lation, as contrasted with this, lies in its steady grip on solid 
fact, in its broad open-hearted recognition of matter, in its 
attachment to historical realities, in its physical fulness, in its 
ready welcome to the value of body. * The Word took flesh.' 
There is the sacred phrase, in which we victoriously surpass 
the insecurities of the Platonic position. The earth wins 
to itself the needful subsistence; the flesh is no longer a 
dark puzzle ; matter no longer falls away from us into hollow 
emptiness ; life steadies itself into a sacramental reality, 
which evidences and strengthens, instead of disguising and 
diminishing, the penetrative energies of the Spirit that pos- 
sesses it. This is what lifts us out of the shadowy reverie of 
strange and bewildering symbolism into the sturdy recog- 
nition of the spiritual actuality of natural facts. How shall 
we put the difference ? Perhaps, most concretely in this : 
that the instinct of the reverie is to seek to snatch a revela- 
tion out of the least known incidents, out of the effects that 
belong to the edge of human experience, out of those' 
abnormal and unusual effects that hover between the sub- 
jective and objective worlds ; it haunts the supernaturalistic 
circles of Alchemy, of Visions, of Astrology, of Spiritualism. 
The instinct of the truer mysticism, as we would venture to 
call it, feels no need to fly from the common and the normal. 
It is these that Spirit creates and uses ; in the normal fact, 
then, will be detected the normal action of Spirit. So 
believing, it clings to the sound and solid central mass of 
human experiences, seeking its manifestation and its realiza- 
tion in this core of accepted fact : it can endure to let the 
edges and the fringes of life shade off* into doubtful obscurity, 
unanxious and unassertive, where certainty fails it. Perhaps 
Mr. Shorthouse will forgive us if we say that his beautiful 
book leaves us with an impression rather of the first than of the 
second temper ; and will pardon us again if we are wrong in 

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i882. yohn InglesanL 141 

suggesting that to this same temper may belong the un- 
fortunate expression of * Christian Myth ' in the preface to 
the second edition. Materialism, in our day, has a valid 
lesson to teach us : the worth and significance of fact ; and it 
will bear down, with overwhelming impetus, upon anj'thii^ 
that claims no more for itself than a * mythical,' or emotional, 
or imaginative standing. So much for the philosophy. 

The religious bearings of the book are of permanent and 
positive value, for they raise the spiritual question into a form 
at once decisive and vital. This form is the Sacramental. 
No other aspect of the religious problem seems to present 
itself to the author as within the region of practical considera- 
tion. It is almost amusing to note the entire absence, from 
the dramatic scene of discussion, of all those theological con- 
troversies over which Protestantism would wage its battle 
with Rome. They do not appear for examination. At the 
utmost, they present a curious specimen or two of personal 
character, more or less monstrous in type, which the author 
uses for a moment and drops, poor Mr. Thome, e.g^ and the 
fanatic at the Court of the Duke of Umbria, who offers 
a momentary contrast of great brilliancy and skill to the 
tolerant humanity of the magnificent Italian Renaissance. 
But that is all. Theological controversies all resolve them- 
selves into the one absorbing question — * How, and where, 
without loss to my individual freedom of nature, can I secure 
Sacramental Grace } ' The Christian life is a life in Christ ; 
and a life in Christ is a life fed, here and now, by the flesh 
and the blood of a living and present Christ Christianity, 
then, is a sacrament ; and its realization is the Eucharist, 
brought nigh by the ordained means of approach, the priest- 
hood of Christ's Church. To be in true and sure contact with 
this inflowing grace, so made nigh : this is the one religious 
necessity, a necessity, not so much for definition and discus- 
sion, as of obvious practical certainty. One anxiety alone 
remains : how to secure the large and varied intricacy of 
personal life uncurtailed and unmenaced in the face of this 
necessary sacerdotalism ? How large, how varied, the massive 
sum of intricate personal experiences is, the author expresses 
in his portrayal of the broad tolerance, the kindly universality 
of interest, the welcome to all living things, that constitute 
the secret and the fascination of the Classical Revivalism. 
This fascination, it is true, while it dominates Inglesant, 
paralyses his religious intensity, and weakens his moral 
fibre ; he is on lower levels of life while under its spell ; the 
star of Lauretta rides higher, for the time, than the star 

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142 yohn Iftglesant. April 

of holy Mary Collet But yet, subordinate though it be, 
there are elements in that wide world of culture which the 
religious instinct may govern, indeed, but also must include 
and allow for, and without which it would be stinted and 
narrow, and, in some degree, ineffectual, Inglesant would 
have lost something if he had followed the call of the Paris 
Benedictine, even though he would have avoided the taint of 
the Italian corruption. He would have been saved much, 
but he would have missed something. Molinos seems to 
hold out to him the larger hope of embracing his secular 
experiences within the possibilities of sacramental grace ; and 
when the Jesuits, with their clever instinct of threatened 
authority, resolve on shattering the Molinist dream, Rome 
has made herself impracticable to Inglesant. If she would have 
given him fair room for the development of that human 
nature, which it is our sacred task to sustain and tend, he 
would have gladly made himself hers. But the Jesuit delibe- 
rately wrecks all chance of this ; with a malicious and 
provoking cleverness he smilingly demolishes the only 
spiritual home which was possible to Inglesant within the 
lines of Rome; and, from that moment, he is Anglican 
out and out. We earnestly wish that the author had not 
apparently tired of his work after he has once passed the 
crisis. As it is, we are suddenly dropped to the level of a 
third party's report for the final scene ; the nature of Ingle- 
sanfs conviction is expressed in a speech of great force and 
condensed interest, but the transition to it from the last scene 
of farewell to the Jesuits is left far too abrupt and unex- 
plained ; the matter and the passion of the speech suggest 
too much to be crowded into a couple of pages ; the con- 
clusion has the air of being reached at a rush, leaving a touch 
of surprise at much that needs unravelling. So much is said 
in these last two pages which leaves us darkly questioning 
what the author intends to say. Once more we feel the 
infection of the Platonic mood upon the story : the scene 
shakes, even as the woodland reels in autumn 'athwart the 
smoke of burning weeds.' The fine sweet melancholy of the 
sunset is Platonic; it lacks the glow and steady patient 
hopefulness of the slow advancing Christian dawn. Is there, 
we are inclined to ask, not another answer to the * Papist's 
argument* than that suggested by the author's phrase .> 
There is, indeed, * no absolute exponent ' to be found * of an 
absolute revelation : ' facts are too strong to admit of this 
easy solution. But are we, therefore, cut off from an absolute 
revelation? May it not be mediated through a relative. 

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i882. yohn Inglesant. 143 

partial, incomplete material ? Can the Word not make itself 
known through the Flesh as the very Word that was in the 
b^inning with the Father ? Can the absolute truth not make 
itself felt through the stress and pressure of conflicting hesi- 
tations ? Is God Himself not known in Nature \e,g) even 
though it be through no exponent specialized and logical, 
but through the things that are seen, confused and confusing 
as they seem ? Is there no voice to be heard alive among 
the stars of heaven because they have no loud speech or 
fixed language ? 

These questions rush forward to mix with the last 
utterances of John Inglesant ; and yet we would not be 
taken to mean that we do not welcome, with grateful enthu- 
siasm, the main effort of the book to point the spiritual 
dilemma in its most vital form. He has seized the position. 
It does, indeed, seem most possible to us, amid all the 
sickening disturbance and fear that now afflict us, that the 
heart of peace may yet be disclosed to us in the Holy Supper ; 
that there, in the Eucharist, lies the hope of an Eirenicon. 
Worship is more central, even, than the Creed itself; it holds 
within itself the key of the Creed ; it is in the action of 
worship we are all made one. That all should come t€> 
recognize the one Food by which all are fed ; that every 
possible freedom in all secular directions should be perfectly 
compatible with entire union in that act of spiritual contact 
with the Divine Power by which and in which all things are 
done: is this so utterly impo3sible to conceive? At least, 
John Inglesant has furthered some such suggestive issue of 
our blind struggling ; the book feels for a solution, in which a 
wide free range of human and secular life should circle round 
a sacramental centre of spiritual sustenance ; for some such 
fulfilment it has helped us to pray, and by striking this note 
it has taught us, once again, how high and stirring is the task 
to which our Church in England has set its hand. Our 
troubles, our pangs, our confusions, marshal themselves into 
rank and order once again, as we sweep them into the scope 
and purpose of this great achievement. We see them in 
their place ; they are all part of the vast and intricate process 
by which the leaven laboriously and painfully works its way 
amid the gross lump, which it claims and yet but slowly 
penetrates. Better to wait in patience until the dead mass 
stirs at last than to hasten the process by cutting down and 
diminishing the lump. Some such thoughts as these Mr. 
Shorthouse prompts and encourages ; and we would fervently 
beg all those to read his beautiful book who desire to foster 

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144 Half a Century of Cambridge Life, April 

in themselves a strong and deep passion of spiritual devo- 
tion, and yet are conscious of a precious and holy heritage 
of human hopes and human impulses to which they dare not 
play false, which they cannot ignore, to which they owe reve- 
Jrence, and to redeem which to Christ they would gladly work 
^nd struggle with slow and unflagging patience, even though 
it involve long waiting and much anxiety, and some per- 
plexity, and no little ridicule. 

Perhaps it may be said that the book is overweighted 
by the perplexities that these last words of ours have 
attempted to justify. It is, indeed, true that there is a certain 
sense of brooding oppression about the book ; it is sad in 
tone ; and there is a strain of anxiety, of mysterious doomful 
issues, that hangs heavily about its pages ; dark forces in the 
background press and push Inglesant along ; circumstance 
and authority are, both of them, unduly imperious and 
compelling, sometimes with a purposelessness that seems 
blind and depressing. Life appears anxious and perplexing ; 
there is but little freshness, but little play of joyous spon- 

But we must not appear to depredate that which has 
been to us such a delightful and exciting surprise ; the book 
has taken the world by storm, and we warmly join the chorus 
of admiration. Yet the author has touched such deep chords 
that it seemed impossible to speak of his book without an 
earnest attempt to express where in it we found help and 
where we seemed to miss it. The novels are rare indeed 
towards which we find ourselves taking such anxious pains 
to express our grateful thanks. 



1. William Whewell^ D.D.y Master of Trinity College, Cam-- 

bridge. An Account of his Writings^with Selections from 
his Literary and Scientific Correspondence. By I. TOD- 
HUNTER, M.A., F.R.S., Honorary Fellow of S. John's 
College. 2 vols., 8vo. (London, 1876.) 

2. The Life and Selections from tite Correspondence of William 

Whewelly D.D.y late Master of Trinity College, Cambridge. 
By Mrs. Stair Douglas. 8vo. (London, 188 1.) 

Digitized JDy 


1882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 145 

Full materials for the life of Dr. Whewell are at last before 
the public. We say * at last,' because ten years elapsed from 
his death in 1866 before the first instalment of his biography 
appeared, and fifteen years before the second. Haste, there- 
fore, cannot be pleaded for any faults which may be found 
with either of them. Nor, indeed, is it our intention to carp 
at persons who have performed a difficult task as well as 
they could. Far rather would we take exception to the 
strange resolution of Dr. Whewell's executors and friends to 
have his life written in separate portions. It was originally 
intended that there should have been three of these published 
simultaneously: (i) the scientific, (2) the academic, (3) the 
domestic. As time went on, however, it was found impossible 
to carry out this scheme ; and Mr. Todhunter published the 
first instalment before any one had been found to undertake 
either of the others. At last, after repeated failures, the two 
were thrown together, and entrusted to Mrs. Stair Douglas, Dr. 
Whewell's niece by marriage. The defects of such a method 
are obvious ; events, which were scarcely worth telling once, 
are told twice ; documents that would have been useful to 
one biographer appear in the work of the other; and the 
like. For this, however, the authors before us deserve less 
blame than the scheme which they were compelled to follow. 
One blemish, common to both of them, we cannot pass over 
so lightly— we mean the absence of good indices. We feel 
the want of this help most in Mr. Todhunter's book, where 
the history is in one volume and the correspondence in 
another, without either index or chronological table to link 
the two together. 

Few lives, we imagine, have been so many-sided as to 
need a double, not to say a triple, narrative in order to set 
them fully before the public ; and we assert most distinctly 
that Dr. Whewell was the last man whose biography should 
have been so treated. His life, notwithstanding his diverse 
occupations and his widespread interests, presented a singular 
unity, due to his unflinching determination to subordinate his 
pursuits, his actions, and his thoughts to what he felt to be 
his work in the world, viz. the advancement, in the fullest 
sense the word can be made to bear, of his College and 
University. He himself made no attempt to subdivide his 
time, so as to carry out some special work at the expense of 
other occupations. He found time for everything. His extra- 
ordinary energy, and his power of absorbing himself at a 
moment's notice in whatever he had to do, whether scientific 
research or University business, enabled him to get through 

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146 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

an astonishing amount of work in a single day. Much of 
what he did must have been very irksome and repulsive to 
him. He particularly disliked detail, especially that relating 
to finance. * I hate these disgusting details/ was his way of 
putting aside, or trying to put aside, economical discussions at 
College meetings ; and it was often hard to make him under- 
stand the real importance of these apparently small matters. 
Again, no matter how busy he was, he found time to go intO: 
society; to keep himself well acquainted with all that was 
going forward in politics, literature, art, music, science ; and 
to carry on a vast correspondence with relatives, friends, and 
men of science in England and on the Continent A con- 
siderable number of these letters have of course perished ; 
but the extent of the collection is evident from Mr. Tod- 
hunter's statement that he had examined more than 3,500 
letters written to Dr. Whewell, and more than 1,000 written 
by him. His opinion of them, after this patient study, is well 
worth quotation : — 

' I do not think that adequate justice can be rendered to Dr. 
Whewell's vast knowledge and power by any person who did not 
know him intimately, except by the examination of his extensive 
correspondence ; such an examination cannot fail to raise the opinion 
formed of him by the study of his published works, however high 
that opinion may be. The evidence of his attainments and abilities 
which is furnished by the fact that he was consulted and honoured 
by the acknowledged chiefs of many distinct sciences is most ample 
and impressive. United with this intellectual eminence we find an 
attractive simplicity and generosity of nature, an entire absence of 
self-seeking and assertion, and a warm concern in the fortunes of his 
friends, even when they might be considered in some degree as his 

The academic side of Dr. Whewell's life has no doubt 
been imperfectly related in both the works before us ; and the 
due recognition of his merits will have to wait until the 
intellectual history of the University during the nineteenth 
century shall one day be written. On the other hand, how- 
ever, we owe our warmest thanks to Mrs. Stair Douglas for 
having brought prominently into notice, as only a woman 
could do, the softer side of Dr. Whewell's character. No one 
who did not know him as she did could have suspected the 
almost feminine tenderness, the yearning for sympathy, which 
were concealed under that rough exterior. These qualities, 
which were no doubt much developed by his marriage, were 
characteristic of him throughout his whole life. The following 
passage, which has not before been printed, from a letter 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 147 

written in 1836 to the Marchesa Spineto, his oldest and most 
valued Cambridge friend, while he was busy writing his 
History of the Inductive Sciences^ shows how necessary female 
sympathy was to him even when he was most occupied : — 

* It appears to me long since I have seen you, and I am disposed 
to write as if your absence were a disagreeable and imusual priva- 
tion ; although it is very likely that if you had been here I might 
have seen just as little of you and might have felt just as lonely. And 
perhaps if I send you this sheet of my ruminations, it will find you 
in the middle of a new set of interests and employments, with 
only a little bit of your thoughts and affections at liberty to look this 
way ; and so I shall be little the better for the habit you have taught 
me of depending upon you for unvarying kindness and love. Perhaps 
you will tell me I am unjust in harbouring such a suspicion, but do 
not be angry with me if I am ; for you know such thoughts come 
into my head whether I will or no ; and then go away the sooner for 
being put into words.' 

University life changes with such rapidity, the generations 
are so short, that no matter how great a man may have been, 
it is inevitable that he should soon become little more than a 
tradition to those who succeed him. In the present case the 
majority of the resident Fellows of Trinity College can never 
have even seen the late Master; and though his outward 
appearance has been handed down to posterity by a picture 
in the lodge, a bust in the library, and a statue in the chapel, 
neither canvas nor marble, no matter how skilfully they may 
be handled, can convey the impression which that king of 
men made upon his contemporaries. These portraits give a 
fairly just idea of his lofty stature, broad shoulders, and large 
limbs, but the features are inadequately rendered in all of 
them. The proportions are probably correct, but the expres- 
sion has been lost. The artists have been so anxious to render 
the philosopher, that they have forgotten the man. His 
expression, except on very solemn occasions, was never so 
grave as they have made it His bright blue eye had nearly 
always a merry twinkle in it ; his clear ruddy complexion 
glowed with health ; and his broad mouth was ever ready to 
break into a smile. His nature was essentially joyous ; and 
he dearly loved a good joke, a funny story, or a merry party 
of friends, in which his laugh was always the loudest, and his 
pleasure the keenest. Nor did he disdain the pleasures of the 
table ; a good dinner, followed by a good bottle of port, was 
not without its charm for him, though it may be doubted 
whether he enjoyed these matters for their own sake so much 
as for the society they brought witli them. He could not bear 

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148 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

to be alone, and was not particular into what company he 
went, provided he could get good conversation, and plenty of 
it. He used to say that he liked to hear a dinner in * full cry ;* 
and, if we may adopt his own simile without offence to the 
memory of one whom we love and revere, he was himself the 
leader of the pack. He could hardly be called a good talker ; 
he was too fond of the sound of his own loud cheery voice, 
and engrossed the conversation too much. He would take up 
a subject started by somebody else, and handle it in a masterly 
fashion, as if he were in a lecture room, while the rest sat by 
and listened. He laid down the law, too, in a style that did 
not admit of reply. We well remember an occasion when the 
conversation turned on Longfellow's Golden Legend^ then just 
published : ' I think it is a bad echo of a bad original, Goethe's 
Faustl thundered out the great man ; after which, of course, 
there was a dead silence. Again, he was no respecter of 
persons, nor was he too careful to observe the ordinary rules 
of politeness. If anybody said a silly thing, even if the person 
were a lady, and in her own house, he thought nothing of 
crushing her with * Madam, no one but a fool would have 
made that observation ;' but his company was so delightful, 
his stores of information so varied and so vast, his readiness 
to communicate them so unusual, and his memory so retentive, 
that these eccentricities in * Rough Diamond,' as a clever Uni- 
versity 7>« d' esprit called him, were readily forgiven. He was 
far too well aware of his own supremacy to be afraid of un- 
bending ; and he was a special favourite with young people, 
especially with young ladies, from the kind way in which he 
threw himself into their pursuits and pleasures, talked with 
them, romped with them, wrote verses and riddles for their 
amusement, and generally made himself what the French call 
bon enfant in their company. 

We are not presumptuous enough to suppose that we can 
add anything, except a few personal recollections, to what has 
been collected in the volumes before us ; but we think that 
even after their publication there is still room for a short 
essay, which shall bring out some points in Dr. Whewell's 
academic life, and attempt to determine the value of what he 
did for science in general, and for his own College and 
University in particular. It will be seen that his life divides 
itself naturally into three periods of about equal length, the 
first extending from his birth in 1794 to his appointment 
as assistant-tutor of Trinity College in 18 18, the second from 
18 1 8 to his appointment as Master in 184 1, and the third from 
1 84 1 to his death in 1866. 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life, 149 

Mr. Whewell came up to Cambridge at the beginning of 
the Michaelmas Term, 1 8 1 2. Those who are familiar with the 
exciting spectacle presented by the splendid intellectual 
activity of the Cambridge of to-day — accommodating itself 
with flexibility and readiness to requirements the most diverse, 
appointing new teachers in departments of study the most 
unusual and the most remote on the bare chance of their 
services being required, flinging open its doors to all comers, 
regardless of sex, creed, or nationality ; and thronged with 
students whose numbers are increasing year by year, eager to 
take advantage of the instruction which their elders are 
equally eager to supply them with — ^will find it difficult, if not 
impossible, to imagine the totally different state of things 
which existed at that time. Were we asked to express its 
characteristic by a single word, we should answer, dulness. It 
must be remembered that communication in those days was 
slow ; news did not arrive until it was stale ; travellings 
especially for passengers, was expensive, so that, at least for the 
shorter vacations, many persons did not leave Cambridge at 
all ; and some remained there during the whole year — we might 
say, in some cases, during their whole lives. For the same 
reasons strangers rarely visited the University. The same 
people dined and supped together day after day, with no 
novelty to diversify their lives or their conversation. No 
wonder that they became narrow, prejudiced, eccentric, or that 
their habits were tainted with the grosser vices which there 
was no public opinion to repudiate. The undergraduates, 
most of whom came from the upper classes, were few. In the 
fifteen years between 1800 and 18 15 the yearly average of 
those who matriculated did not exceed 205 : less than one- 
fourth of those who now present themselves.^ The only road 
to the Honour Degree was through the Mathematical Tripos. 
The amusements were as little varied as the studies. There 
was riding for those who could afford it ; and a few boated 
and played cricket or tennis ; but the majority contented 
themselves with a walk. With them, as with their seniors, 
the habit of hard drinking was unfortunately still prevalent. 
But the great changes through which the country passed be- 
tween 181 5 and 1834 produced a totally different state of 
things. The old order changed ; slowly and almost imper- 
ceptibly at first, but still it changed. As the wealth of the 
country increased, a new class of students presented them- 

* In the fifteen years from 1800-18W inclusive the average was 205 ; 
from 1815-1829 it was 402 ; and from 1S30-1844 it was 433 ; in 188 1 the 
number was 806 ; this year it will exceed 860. 

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150 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

selves for education ; ideas began to circulate with rapidity ; 
old forms of procedure and examination were given up ; 
academic society was purified from its coarseness and vul- 
garity, and lost much of its exclusiveness ; new studies were 
admitted upon an all but equal footing with the old ones ; 
and, lastly, the new political principles asserted themselves by 
gradually sweeping away, one after another, all restrictive 
enactments. This last change, however, was not consum- 
mated until 1 87 1. The other changes with which what 
may be called modern Cambridge was inaugurated are thus 
enumerated with characteristic force by Professor Sedgwick 
in one of his celebrated * Letters to the Editor of the Leeds 
Mercury^ written in 1836, with which he demolished that 
infamous slanderer of Cambridge, Mr. R. M. Beverley : — 

* It is most strange that in a letter on the present state of Cam- 
bridge no notice should be taken of the noble institutions which have 
of late years risen up within it ; of the glories of its Observatory ; of 
the newly-chartered body, the Philosophical Society, organized among 
its resident members in the year 181 9, and now known to the world of 
science by its " Transactions,'' the records of many important original 
discoveries ; of the new Collections in Natural History ; of the magni- 
ficent new Press ; of the new School and Museum of Comparative 
Anatomy ; of the noble extension of collegiate buildings, made at 
some inconvenience and much personal cost to the present Fellows, 
and entailing on them and their successors the weight of an enormous 
debt ; of the general spirit of inquiry pervading the members of the 
academic body, young and old ; of the eight or nine new courses of 
public lectures (established within the last twenty-five years) both on 
the applied sciences and the ancient languages; of the general 
activity of the professors, and of their correspondence with foreign 
establishments organized for objects like their own, whereby Cam- 
bridge is now, at least, an integral part of the vast republic of 
literature and science ; of the crowded class at the lecture of Modem 
History [by Professor Smyth] ; of the great knowledge of many of our 
younger members in modem languages ; of the recent Professorship 
of Political Economy bestowed on a gentleman [Mr. Pryme] who 
had been lecturing for years, and was a firm and known supporter of 
liberal opinions.' 

When Whewell came to the University these improve- 
ments had not been so much as thought of. He was himself 
to be the prime mover in bringing several of them about. It 
must be remembered, however, while we confess to a special 
enthusiasm for our hero, that he did not stand alone as the 
champion of intellectual development in the University. 
Indeed it will become evident as we proceed that he was not 
naturally a reformer. He had so strong a respect for existing 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 151 

institutions, so deep a love for his College and his University, 
that he hesitated long before he could be brought to sanction 
any change, no matter how self-evident or how salutaiy. As 
a young man, however, he found himself one of a large body 
of enthusiastic workers, who, while they differed widely, almost 
fundamentally, on the methods to be employed, were all 
animated by the same spirit, and stimulated one another to 
fresh exertions in the common cause. It was one of the 
most remarkable characteristics of the period of which Pro- 
fessor Sedgwick has sketched the results, that it was hardly 
more distinguished for the changes produced than it was for 
the men who brought them about 

But to return to the special subject of our essay. Of 
Wheweirs boyhood, school days, and undergraduateship, few 
details have been preserved. His father was a master car- 
penter, residing at Lancaster, where William, the eldest of his 
seven children, was bom in 1794- His father is mentioned 
as a man of probity and intelligence ; but his mother, whom 
he unfortunately lost when he was only eleven years old, 
appears to have been a woman of superior talents and con- 
siderable culture, who enriched the * Poet's Comer ' of the 
weekly Lancaster Gazette with occasional contributions in 
verse. William was about to be apprenticed to his father, 
when his superior intelligence attracted the attention of Mr. 
Rowley, curate of the parish and master of the grammar 
school. The father objected at first : * He knows more about 
parts of my business than I do,' he said, ' and has a special 
turn for it/ However, after a week's reflection, he yielded, 
mainly out of deference to Mr. Rowley, who further offered 
to find the boy in books, and educate him free of expense. 
Of his school experiences. Professor Owen, who was one of his 
schoolfellows, has contributed some delightful reminiscences. 
After mentioning that he was a tall, ungainly youth, he 
adds : — 

* The rate at which Whewell mastered both English grammar and 
Latin accidence was a marvel ; and before the year was out he had 
moved upward into the class including my elder brother and a dozen 
boys of the same age. Then it was that the head-master, noting to 
them the ease with which Whewell mastered the exercises and lessons, 
raised the tale and standard. Out of school I remember remon- 
strances in this fashion : " Now, Whewell, if you say more than 
twenty lines of Virgil to-day, well wallop you." But that was easier 
said than done. I have seen him, with his back to the churchyard 
wall, flooring first one, then another, of the " walloppers," and at last 
public opinion in the school interposed. " Any two of you may take 
Whewell in a fair stand-up fight, but we won't have any more at him 

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152 Half a Century of Cambridge Life, Apra 

at once." After the fate of the first pair, a second was not found 
willing. My mother thought "it was extremely ungrateful in that 
boy Whewell to have discoloured both eyes of her eldest so shock- 
ingly." But Mr. Rowley said, " Boys will be boys," and he always let 
them fight it fairly out.' 

In after years Whewell spoke of the good training he had 
received in arithmetic, geometry, and mensuration from Mr. 
Rowley ; but it is believed that his recollections of his first 
school were not wholly agreeable ; and probably he was not 
sorry when he was removed to the grammar school at 
Heversham, in Westmoreland. This took place in 18 10. 
The reason for it was that he might compete for an exhi- 
bition of 50/. per annum, to Trinity College, which he was so 
fortunate as to obtain. At his second school he paid great 
attention to classical studies, and practised versification in 
Greek and Latin. In October 181 2 he commenced residence 
at Trinity College as a sub-sizar. His first University dis- 
tinction was the Chancellor's gold medal for English Verse, 
the subject being * Boadicea.' In after years he was fond of 
expressing the theory that ' a prize-poem should be a prize- 
poem : ' by which he probably meant that the subject should 
be treated in a conventional fashion, with no eccentric inno- 
vations of style or metre. It must be admitted that his own 
work conformed exactly to this standard. The poem was 
welcomed with profound admiration in the family circle at 
home ; but his old master took a different view of the question. 
Professor Owen relates that he called one day at his mother's 
house, and began as follows : — 

* " IVe sad news for you, Mrs. Owen, to-day. I've just had a letter 
from Cambridge ; that boy Whewell has ruined himself, hell never 
get his Wranglership now ! " " Why, good gracious, Mr. Rowley, what 
has Whewell been doing?" "Why, he has gone and got the Chan- 
cellor's gold medal for some trumpery poem, ' Boadicea,' or some- 
thing of that kind, when he ought to have been sticking to his 
mathematics. I give him up now. Taking after his poor mother, I 
suppose." ' 

The letters which he wrote home give us some pleasant 
glimpses of his College life, which he evidently thoroughly 
enjoyed. For the first time in his life he had access to a good 
library — that of Trinity College-- and he speaks of 'an incon- 
ceivable desire to read all manner of books at once,* adding 
that at that very moment there were two folios and six 
quartos of different works upon his table. The success which 
hcvafterwards achieved is a proof that he entered heartily into 
the studies of the place ; and among his friends were men 

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1882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 153 

who were studious then, and afterwards became eminent. 
Among these we may mention Mr., afterwards Sir John, 
Herschel, Mr. Richard Jones, Mr. Julius Charles Hare, and 
Mr. Charles Babbage. A correspondent of his, writing so 
late as 1841, recalls the ' Sunday morning philosophical 
breakfasts/ at which they used to meet in 181 5 ; and there 
are indications in the letters of similar feasts of reason and 
flows of soul. It must, on the other hand, be admitted that 
a few indications of an opposite character may be produced. 
He admits, in a half-bantering, half-serious way, that he had 
laid himself open to the charge of idleness ; and he describes 
the diversions of himself and his friends during the long 
vacation of 18 15 as 'dancing at country fairs, playing billiards, 
tuning beakers into musical glasses,' and the like. It is no 
matter of surprise to us that a young man of high spirits and 
strong bodily frame, brought up in the seclusion of Lancashire, 
should have taken the fullest advantage of the first opportunity 
which presented itself of appreciating the lighter and brighter 
side of existence. This, however, was all. Whewell knew 
perfectly well where to stop. We are glad to be able to 
state, on the authority of a Fellow of Trinity, a few years 
senior to him, the late Professor Clark, that no scandal ever 
attached itself to his name ; and that he ' wore the white 
flower of a blameless life ' through a period when the customs 
most prevalent in the University were such as are more 
honoured in the breach than in the observance. He proceeded 
to the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 18 16, when he was 
second Wrangler and second Smith's Prize-man. On both 
occasions he was beaten by a Mr. Jacob, of Caius College, 
who was his junior by two years. It is a Cambridge tradition 
that Mr. Jacob's success was a surprise to everybody, for he 
had intentionally affected to be an idle man, and showed 
himself on most days riding out in hunting costume, the truth 
being that he kept his books at a farm-house, where he pur- 
sued his studies in secrecy and quiet. He was a young man 
of the greatest promise ; and it was expected that he would 
achieve a conspicuous success at the Bar. But his lungs were 
affected, and he died of consumption at an early age. As 
Mr. Todhunter remarks, his fame rests mainly on the fact 
that he twice outstripped so formidable a competitor as the 
future Master of Trinity. Whewell mentions him as * a very 
pleasant as well as a very clever man,' and adds, * I had as 
soon be beaten by him as by anybody else.' 

The labours of reading for the degree over, Mr. Whewell 
had leisure to turn his studies in any direction whither his 

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154 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

fancy led him. No doubt he fully appreciated the, to him, 
unusual position, for he tells his sister that few people could 
be 'more tranquilly happy than your brother, in his green 
plaid dressing-gown, blue morocco slippers, and with a large 
book before him/ The time had come, however, when he was 
to experience the first of the inevitable inconveniences of a 
College life. Two of his most intimate friends, Herschel and 
Jones, left Cambridge, and he bitterly deplores their loss. 
Indeed it probably needed all the attachment to the place, 
which he proclaims in the same letter, to prevent his following 
their example. He appears at one time to have thought 
seriously of going to the Bar. He began, however, to take 
pupils : an occupation which becomes a singularly absorbing 
one, especially when the tutor takes the interest in them which 
apparently he did. One of those with whom he spent the 
summer of 1818, in Wales, Mr. Kenelm Digby, afterwards 
author of the Broadstone of Honoz^r, who admits that he 
was so idle that his tutor would take no remuneration from 
him, has recorded that — 

^ I had reason to regard Whewell as one of the most generous, 
open-hearted, disinterested, and noble-minded men that I ever knew. 
I remember circumstances that called for the exercise of each of 
those rare qualities, when they were met in a way that would now 
seem incredible, so fast does the world seem moving away from all 
ancient standards of goodness and moral grandeur.' 

This testimony is important, if only for comparison with 
the far different feelings with which his more official pupils 
regarded him in after years. In these occupations he spent 
the two years succeeding his degree; for the amount of 
special work done for the Fellowship Examination was pro- 
bably not great. He was elected Fellow in October 18 17; 
and in the summer of the following year was made one of 
the assistant-tutors. With this appointment the first part of 
his University career ends, and the second begins. 

His connexion with the educational staff of Trinity 
College, first as assistant-tutor, then as sole tutor, lasted 
for just twenty years. These were the most occupied of his 
busy life ; and in justification of what we said at the outset 
of the multifarious nature of his occupations, we proceed to 
give a rapid chronological sketch of them. His career as 
an author began, in 18 19, with an Elemefitary Treatise 
en Mechanics. It went through seven editions, in each of 
which, as Mr. Todhunter says, ' the subject was revolutionized 
rather than modified ; and the preface to each expounded 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 155 

with characteristic energy the paramount merits of the last 
constitution framed.' The value of the work was greatly im- 
paired by these proceedings ; for an author can hardly expect 
to retain the unwavering confidence of. his readers while his 
own opinions are in constant fluctuation. In 1820 he was 
Moderator, and travelled abroad for the first time. In 1821 
he was working at geology seriously, and took a geological 
tour in the Isle of Wight with Sedgwick, who had been made 
Woodwardian Professor three years before. Later in the 
year he explored the Lake Country, and was introduced to 
Mr. Wordsworth. Their acquaintance subsequently ripened 
into a friendship, which appears in numerous letters, and 
notably in the dedication prefixed to the Elements of Morality. 
A Treatise on Dynamics was published in 1823, which was 
treated in much the same fashion as its fellow on Mechanics. In 
this year he became tutor of his * side,' by which his Cambric^e 
work must have been largely increased. His vacation was 
spent in a visit to Paris for the first time, and an architectural 
tour in Normandy with Mr. Kenelm Digby. In 1824 he took 
a prominent part in the resistance to the Heads of Colleges 
in their attempt to nominate to the Professorship of Mine- 
ralogy ; and later in the year he went again to Cumberland 
with Sedgwick, ' rambling about the country, and examining 
the strata ;' visiting Southey and Wordsworth ; and, in the 
intervals of geology, seeing cathedrals and churches. In 1 825, 
as the chair of Mineralogy was about to be vacated by Pro- 
fessor Henslow, promoted to that of Botany, Mr. Whewell 
announced himself a candidate ; and by way of preparation 
spent three months in Germany, studying crystallography at 
the feet of Professor Mohs, of Freiburg : a subject on which 
he had already made communications to the Royal Society 
and the Cambridge Philosophical Society. This was his first 
introduction to Germany, in whose language and literature he 
thenceforward took the greatest interest. He even modified 
his way of writing English in accordance with German custom, 
as is shown by the plentiful scattering of capitals through his 
sentences, and by a certain ponderosity of style which savours 
of German originals. Dissensions as to the mode of election 
to the Mineralogical chair caused it to remain vacant for three 
years ; so that Dr. Whewell, about the choice of whom there 
never seems to have been any doubt, had no immediate op- 
portunity of turning to account his newly-acquired knowledge. 
He therefore, with even more than characteristic energy, de- 
voted himself to two most opposite subjects, Theology, and 
the Density of the Earth. 

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156 Half a Century of Cambridge Life, April 

In the summer of .1826 he commenced a series of investi- 
gations on the latter subject at Dolcoath Mine, Cornwall, ii> 
conjunction with Mr. Airy. The essential part of the pro- 
cess was to compare the time of vibration of a pendulum 
at the surface of the earth with the time of vibration of the 
same pendulum at a considerable depth below the surface. 
Unfortunately the experiments, which were renewed in 1828, 
failed to lead to any satisfactory result, partly through an 
error in the construction of the pendulum, partly through 
a singular fatality, by which, on both occasions, they were 
frustrated by a serious accident. The account he gives of 
himself, and of the way in which the researches were regarded 
by the Comishmen, is too amusing not to be quoted. It 
is contained in a letter to his friend. Lady Malcolm, and is 
dated * Underground Chamber, Dolcoath Mine, Camborne, 
Cornwall, June 10, 1820: — 

' I venture to suppose that you never had a correspondent who at 
the time of writing was situated as your present one is. I am at this 
moment sitting in a small cavem deep in the recesses of the earth, 
separated by 1,200 feet of rock from the surface on which you mortals 
tread. I am close to a wooden partition which has been fixed here 
by human hands, through which I ever and anon look, by means 
of two telescopes, into a larger cavem. That larger den has got 
various strange-looking machines, illumined here and there by unseen 
lamps, among which is visible a clock with a face not unlike common 
clocks, and a brass bar which swings to and fro with a small but 
never-ceasing motion. I am clad in the garb of a miner, which is 
probably more dirty and scanty than anything you may have happened 
to see in the way of dress. The stillness of this subterranean solitude 
is interrupted by the noise, most strange to its walls, of the ticking 
of my clock, and the chirping of seven watches. But besides these 
sounds it has noises of its own which my ear catches now and theiu 
A huge iron vessel is every quarter of an hour let down through the 
rock by a chain above a thousand feet long, and in its descent and 
ascent dashes itself against the sides of the pit with a violence and a 
din like thunder ; and at intervals, louder and deeper still, I hear the 
heavy burst of an explosion when gunpowder has been used to 
rend the rock, which seems to pervade every part of the earth like 
the noise of a huge gong, and to shake the air within my prison. 
I have sat here for some hours, and shall sit five or six more, at the 
end of which time I shall climb up to the light of the sky in which 
you live, by about sixty ladders, which form the weary upward path 
from hence to your world. I ought not to omit, by way of complet- 
ing the picturesque, that I have a barrel of porter close to my elbow, 
and a miner stretched on the granite at my feet, whose yawns at being 
kept here so many hours watching my inscrutable proceedings are 
most pathetic. This has been my situation and employment every 
day for some time, and will be so for some while longer, with the 

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alternation of putting myself in a situation as much as possible similar^ 
in a small hut on the surface of the earth. Is not this a curious way 
of spending one's leisure time ? I assure you I often think of Sir John's 
favourite quotation from Leyden, " Slave of the dark and dirty mine ! 
What vanity lias brought thee here ? " and sometimes doubt whether 
sunshine be not better than science. 

* If the object of my companion and myself had been to make a 
sensation, we must have been highly gratified by the impression 
which we have produced upon the good people in this country. There 
is no end to the number and oddity of their conjectures and stories 
About us. The most charitable of them take us to be fortune-tellers ; 
but for the greater part we are suspected of more mischievous kinds 
of magic A single loud, insulated peal of thunder, which was heard 
the first Sunday after our arrival, was laid at our door, and a staff 
which we had occasion to plant at the top of the cliff, was reported 
to have the effect of sinking all unfortunate ships which sailed past 

* I could tell you many more such histories ; but I think this must 
be at least enough about myself, if I do not wish to make the quota- 
tion from Leyden particularly applicable.' 

Mr. Whewell had been ordained priest on Trinity Sunday, 
1826, and this circumstance had probably directed him to 
a more exact study of theology than he had previously 
attempted. The result was a course of four sermons before 
the University in February 1827. The subject of these, which 
have never been printed, may be described as the * Relation 
of Human to Divine Knowledge.' They attracted consider- 
able attention when delivered; and it was even suggested 
that the author ought to devote himself to theology as a 
profession, and try to obtain one of the Divinity Professor- 
ships; but the advice was not taken. A theological tone 
may, however, be observed in most of his scientific works ; 
he loved to point out analogies between scientific and moral 
truths, and to show that there was no real antagonism between 
science and revealed religion. 

In 1828 the new Professor of Mineralogy entered upon 
his functions, and after his manner rushed into print with an 
Essay on Mineralogical Classification and Nomenclature, in 
which there is much novelty of definition and arrangement. 
He was conscious that he had been somewhat precipitate ; 
for he writes to his friend, Mr. Jones, who was trying to 
make up his mind on certain problems of political economy, 
and declined to print until he had done so : — 

* I avoid all your anxieties about authorship by playing for lower 
stakes of labour and reputation. While you work for years in the 
elaboration of slowly-growing ideas, I take the first buds of thought 
and make a nosegay of them without trying what patience and labour 
might do in ripening and perfecting them.' 

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158 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

At the beginning of the year 1830 there appeared an 
anonymous publication ^ntitX^d Architectural Notes on German 
Churches^ with Remarks on the Origin of Gothic Architecture. 
The author need not have tried to conceal his name ; in this, 
as in other similar attempts, his style betrayed his identity at 
once. The work went through three editions, in each of 
which it was characteristically altered and enlarged, so that 
what had appeared as an essay of 118 pages in 1830, was 
transformed into a work of 348 pages in 1 842. Architecture had 
been from the first one of Mr. Whewell's favourite studies. In 
a letter to his sister in 18 18 he speaks of a visit to Lichfield 
and Chester for the purpose of studying their cathedrals ; 
many of his subsequent tours were undertaken for similar 
objects; and his numerous note-books and sketch-books con- 
tain ample evidence of the pains he bestowed on perfecting 
himself in architectural details. The theory, or * ground-idea,' 
as his favourite Germans would have called it, which he puts 
forward, is, that the pointed arch, even if it was really intro- 
duced from the East, which he evidently doubts, was improved 
and developed through the system of vaulting, which the 
Gothic builders learnt from the Romans. This theory has not 
been generally accepted; but the mere statement of it may 
have been of value, as the author suggests, * in the way of 
bringing into view relations and connexions which really 
exerted a powerful influence on the progress of architecture ;' 
and the sketch of the differences between the classical and the 
Gothic styles is certainly extremely good. It has been some- 
times suggested that the whole book was written in a spirit 
of rivalry to the Remarks on tlie Architecture of the Middle 
Ages, by Professor Willis. A glance at the dates of publica- 
tion IS enough to refute this view ; for the work of Professor 
Willis was published in 1835, the first edition of Dr. Whewell's 
in 1830. In the course of this summer he made an archi- 
tectural tour with Mr. Rickman in Devon and Cornwall ; and, 
as if in order that his occupations might be as sharply con- 
trasted as possible, investigated also the geology of the neigh* 
bourhood of Bath. 

In 183 1 we find Mr. Whewell reviewing three remarkable 
books: Y{.txs<^€i^ Discourse on the Study of Nattiral Philo- 
sophy ; Lyell's Principles of Geology, vol. i. ; and Jones On the 
Distribution of Wealth. As Mr. Todhunter remarks, scarcely 
any person but himself could have ventured on such a task. 
These reviews are not merely critical ; they contain much of 
the author's own speculations, much that went beyond the 
-interest of the moment, and might be considered to possiess a 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 159. 

permanent value. Herschel was delighted with his own share. 
He writes to Whewell, thanking him for * the splendid review/ 
and declaring that he * should have envied the author of any 
work, if a stranger, which could give occasion for such a 
review.' Lyell wrote in much the same strain ; and we are 
rather surprised that he did so; for his reviewer not only 
stubbornly refused to accept his theory of uniformity of 
action, in opposition to the cataclysmic views of the Hut- 
tonians, but treated the whole question in a spirit of good- 
humoured banter, in which even Herschel thought that he 
had gone too far. The article on his friend Mr. Jones* work — 
which appeared in the British Critic — is rather an exposition 
of his views, which were original, than a criticism. It was 
Mr. Whewell's first appearance in print on any question of 
political economy, except a short memoir in the Transactions; 
of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, called a Mathematical 
Exposition of some Doctrines of Political Economy \ and there- 
fore marks a period when he had added yet one more science- 
to those which he had already mastered. In this year he 
gave much time to a controversy which was agitating the 
University on the question of the best plans to be adopted, 
for a new Public Library ; and contributed a bulky pamphlet 
to the literature of the subject, in opposition to his friend Mr^ 
Peacock. The whole question is a very interesting one ; but 
our space will not allow us to do more than mention it, as 
another instance of the universality of Mr. Whewell's interests. 
The next year (1832) was even a busier one than its pre- 
decessor ; he was occupied in revising some of his mathematical 
text-books; in drawing up a Report on Mineralogy for the 
British Association, described as * an example of the unrivalled 
power with which he mastered a subject with which his previous 
studies had had but little connexion ; ' and in writing one of 
the Bridgewater Treatises, a work which, with most men, 
would have been enough to occupy them fully during the 
whole of the three years which had elapsed since the President 
of the Royal Society had selected him as one of the eight 
writers who should carry out the intentions of the Earl of 
Bridgewater. The subject of his treatise is Astronomy and 
General Physics considered with reference to Natural Tluology, 
It is one of Mr. Whewell's most thoughtful and justly cele* 
brated works, on which lie must have bestowed much time. 
During the intervals, however, of its composition, he had not 
only written the reviews we have mentioned, and others also, 
to which we can only allude, but had commenced those 
researches on the Tides, which are embodied in no fewer 

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i6o Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

than fourteen memoirs in the Transactions of the Royal 
Society, and for which he afterwards received the Royal 
Medal. No wonder that even he began to feel overworked, 
and resigned the Professorship of Mineralogy early in the 
year. He writes to his friend Mr. Jones, whom he was always 
striving to inspire with some of his own restless activity of 
thought and composition : — 

* I am plunging into term-work, hurried and distracted as usual ; 
the only comfort is the daily perception of what I have gained by 
giving up tiie Professorship. If I can work myself free so as to have 
a little command of my own time, I think I shall be wiser in future 
than to mortgage it so far. Quiet reflexion is as necessary as fresh 
iair, and I can scarcely get a breath of it.' 

His friend must have smiled as he read this, for he pro- 
bably knew what such resolutions were worth. Mr. Whewell 
might have said, with Lord Byron — 

' I make 
A vow of reformation every spring, 
And break it when the summer comes about ; ' 

for, notwithstanding these promises and many others like 
them, we shall find that in future years he took upon himself 
a greater rather than a less amount of work, which he did not 
merely get through in a perfunctory fashion, but discharged 
with a thoroughness as rare as it is marvellous. 

The Bridgewater Treatise appeared in 1833, a year in 
which he delivered an address to the British Association, at 
its meeting at Cambridge ; contributed a paper On the Use of 
Definitions to the Philological Museum ; and increased his 
stock of architectural and geological knowledge by tours with 
Messrs. Rickman, Sedgwick, and Airy. He was now gene- 
rally recognized as the best authority on scientific language ; 
and we find Professor Faraday deferring to him on the 
nomenclature of electricity. In 1834 he invented an anemo^ 
meter^ or instrument for measuring the force and direction of 
the wind ; it was employed for some time at York, by Pro- 
fessor Phillips, but has since been superseded by more 
convenient contrivances. 

The real meaning of his longing for leisure soon became 
manifest. In July 1834 he expounds to his friend Mr. Jones 
the plan of the History and Philosophy of the Indtictive 
Sciences^ which he was prosecuting vigorously. This great 
work occupied him, almost to the exclusion of other matters, 
for the whole of 1835 and 1836. We say almost^ because, 
even at this time, with his usual habit of taking up some new 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. i6i 

subject just before he had completed an extensive labour on 
an old one, he was beginning to study systematic morality, 
and in 1835 published a preface to Sir James Mackintosh's 
Dissertation on the Progress of Ethical Philosophy y a subject 
which he further considered in 1837, when he preached before 
the University Four Sermons on the Foundation of Morals, 
In this year he succeeded Mr. Lyell as President of the 
Geological Society, an office which must have been given to 
him rather in recognition of his general scientific attainments 
and the work he had done in the kindred science of minera- 
logy, than on account of any special publications on geology. 
He seems to have made an excellent President. Sir Charles 
LyelP speaks of him with enthusiasm, and points out his 
sacrifices of time, not only in attending the meetings of the 
Society, but in supervising the details of its organization. 
The extra work which the office involved is thus described in 
a letter to his sister, dated November 18, 1837: — 

* My old complaint of being overwhelmed with business, especially 
at this time of year, is at present, I think, rather more severe than 
ever. For, besides all my usual employments, I have to go to London 
two days every fortnight as President of the Geological Society, and 
am printing a book which I have not yet written, so that I am obliged 
often to run as fast as I can to avoid the printers riding over me, so 
close are they at my heels. I am, in addition to all this, preaching 
a course of sermons before the University ; but this last employment, 
though it takes time and thought, rather sobers and harmonizes my 
other occupations than adds anything to my distraction.' 

In this same year (1837) the History of the Inductive 
Sciences was published, to be followed in less than three years 
by the Philosophy of the same. This encyclopaedic publi- 
cation — for the two books must be considered together — 
marks the conclusion of that part of his life which had been 
devoted, in the main, to pure science ; and it gives the reason 
for his having thrown himself into occupations so diverse. It 
was not his habit to write on that which he had not completely 
mastered ; and he therefore thought, wrote, and published on 
most of the separate sciences while tracing their history and 
developing their philosophy. 

In this rapid sketch we have not been able to do more 
than indicate the principal works which Mr. Whewell had had 
in hand. It must not be forgotten that at the same time he 
was engaged in a large and ever-increasing correspondence ; 

^ Life and Letters of Sir C, Lyell, ii. 38. In the same letter he ex- 
presses his astonishment at finding that Whewell, while writing one of his 
papers on the Tides, was passing through the ^xtss four other works, 


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1 62 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

writing letters — which, as he used to say himself, ought to be 
• * postworthy * — not merely to scientific men, as we know from 
Mr. Todhunter's book, but — as we now know from Mrs. Stair 
Douglas— to his sisters and other ladies, on all sorts of subjects 
which he thought would interest them. Then he was a wide 
reader, as is proved by notes he made on the books which 
he had read from 1817 to 1830: 'books in almost all the 
languages of Europe ; histories of all countries, ancient or 
modern ; treatises on all sciences, moral and physical. Among 
the notes is an epitome of Kant's Kritik der reiyien Vernunfty a 
work which exercised a marked influence on all his specu- 
lations in mental philosophy.' Whatever he read, he read 
thoroughly. Mr. Todhunter illustrates this by a story given 
on the authority of one of his oldest friends. He was found 
reading Mr. Taylor's Philip van Artevelde, which then had 
just appeared. Not content with the poem alone, however, 
he had Froissart by his side, and was carefully comparing the 
modem drama with the ancient chronicle. Lastly — and we 
put the subject we are now about to mention last, not be- 
cause it was least, but because it was, or ought to have been, 
the most important of all his occupations — he held the office 
of tutor of one of the three sides, as they were called, into 
which the College was then divided, first alone, and then in 
conjunction with Mr. Perry, from 1823 to 1838. 

At that time the College was far smaller than it is. at 
present, and a tutor was able, if he chose, to see much more 
of his pupils, to form some appreciation of their tastes and 
capacities, and personally to direct their studies. A man 
who combines the varied qualities which a thoroughly good 
tutor ought to possess is not readily found. It is a question 
of natural fitness rather than of training. In the first place, 
he must be content to forego all other occupations, and to 
be at the beck and call of his pupils and their parents 
whenever they may choose to come to him. Secondly, he 
must never forget that the dull, the idle, and the vicious 
demand even more care and time than the clever and the 
industrious. It may seem almost superfluous to mention 
that nothing which concerns his pupils must be beneath his 
notice. Petty details which concern their daily life, their 
rooms, their bills, their domestic relations, their amusements, 
have all to be referred to the tutor ; and the most trivial of 
these may not seldom be of the greatest importance in giving 
occasion for exercising influence or administering advice. 
We are sorry to have to admit that Mr. Whewell was hardly 
so successful as he ought to have been in discharging these 

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arduous duties. The period of his tutorship was, as we 
have shown, precisely that during which he was most occu- 
pied with his private studies ; he threw his energies into 
them, and disposed of his College work in a perfunctory 
fashion. His letters are full of such passages as : * I have got 
an infinitude of that trifling men call business on my hands ; ' 
* During the last term I have been almost too busy either 
to write or read. I took upon myself a number of em- 
ployments which ate up almost every moment of the day ; ' 
and the like ; and his delight at having transferred the finan- 
cial part of the work to his colleague Mr. Perry, in 1833, was 
unbounded. The result was inevitable ; he could not give the 
requisite time to his pupils, and, in fact, hardly knew some of 
them by sight. A story used to be current about him which 
is so amusing that we think it will bear repeating. We do not 
vouch for its accuracy; but we think that it would hardly 
have passed current had it not been felt to be applicable. 
One day he gave his servant a list of names of certain of his 
pupils whom he wished to see at a wine-party after Hall, a 
form of entertainment then much in fashion. Among the 
names was that of an undergraduate who had died some 
weeks before. * Mr. Smith, sir ; why he died last term, sir ! ' 
objected the man. *You ought to tell me when my pupils 
die,' replied the tutor sternly ; and Mr. Whewell could be 
stern when he was vexed. Again, his natural roughness of 
manner was regarded by the undergp'aduates as indicating 
want of sympathy. They thought he wanted to get rid of 
them and their affairs as quickly as possible. Those who 
understood him better knew that he was really a warm- 
hearted friend ; and we have seen that with his private pupils 
he had been exceedingly popular ; but those who came only 
occasionally into contact with him regarded him with fear, 
not with affection. On the other hand, he was inflexibly just, 
whatever gossip or malevolence may have urged to the con- 
trary. He had no favourites. No influence of any kind could 
make him swerve from the lofty standard of right which he 
had prescribed for himself. 

We had hoped to have found space to discuss at length 
the very interesting controversy which took place, in 1834, 
between himself and Mr. Thirlwall, who had then been as 
assistant tutor on his * side * for about two years, respecting 
the nature of the Chapel services, and the desirability of 
enforcing compulsory attendance at them. It arose out of 
the larger subject of the admission of Dissenters to degrees, 
which had become in the University what would now be 

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164 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

called a * burning question.' On the main issue Mr. Whewell 
had declined to express an opinion, because he had felt him- 
self unable 'fully to agree with either of the contending 
parties.' But when * the Chapel system/ as it has since been 
termed, was attacked, as it was then, with unsparing severity, 
he felt bound to break his silence, and published an able and 
temperate pamphlet in defence of the practice of the College.* 
It IS well known that Mr. Thirlwall was requested by his 
Master, Dr. Wordsworth, to resign his office, on the ground 
that his retention of it would be * very injurious to the good 
government, the reputation, and the prosperity of the College 
in general, to the interests of Mr. Whewell in particular, and 
to the welfare of the young men.' The letter in which this 
sentence occurs is a remarkable specimen of the high-handed 
tone with which the heads of colleges of that day treated 
those whom they regarded as their inferiors, and Thirlwall's 
immediate obedience to it was much censured by his friends. 
It has been often said that Whewell did not exert himself as 
he might have done to avert the catastrophe. We are glad 
to know, as we do now most distinctly, from a letter written 
by him to Professor Sedgwick, full of grief at what had 
happened, and of apprehension at its probable consequences, 
that he had done all in his power to stay the Master's hand. 
He does not say, in so many words, that the Master had con- 
sulted him before he sent the letter ; but he does say that ' the 
Master's request to him (Mr. Thirlwall) to resign the tuition 
I entirely disapprove of, and expressed my opinion against it 
to the Master as strongly as I could.' It is gratifying to find 
that the friendship between two men who differed so widely 
was * rather heightened than diminished ' by what had hap- 
pened, and that it remained unbroken to the last 

We left Dr. Whewell completing the Philosophy of the 
Inductive Sciences. With this his direct contributions to 
science may be said to have terminated ; and for the future 
we shall find him turning his attention exclusively — so far as 
he could be said to do anything exclusively — to Moral Philo- 
sophy. In 1838 he was elected to the Knightbridge Pro- 
fessorship, founded in 1677 by the Rev. John Knightbridge, 

^ When the ^ Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Undergraduates ' 
tabulated the weekly attendance of the Fellows at Chapel in the Lent 
Term of 1838, and finally published a list, like the class list at the end of 
an examination, Dr. Whewell was placed in the middle of the second 
class, having obtained only 34 marks. The Deans, being obliged, in virtue 
of their office, to attend twice daily, were disqualified from obtaining the 
prize — a Bible — which the impudent undergraduates gave to Mr. Perry, 
afterwards Bishop of Melbourne, who had obtained 66 marks. 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 165 

who directed his Professor of * Moral Theology or Casuistical 
Divinity/ as he termed it, to read five lectures in the Public 
schools in every term, and, at the end of it, to deliver them, 
fairly written out, to the Vice-Chancellor. Various pains and 
penalties were enjoined against those who failed to perform 
these duties ; but, notwithstanding, the office had remained a 
sinecure for more than a century ; indeed we are doubtful 
whether it had ever been anything else. The suggestion that 
Mr. Whewell should become a candidate for it was made by 
his old friend. Dr. Worsley, Master of Downing, who was 
Vice- Chancellor in that year, and, by virtue of his office, one of 
the electors. Mr. Whewell determined to inaugurate a new 
era, and at once commenced a course of lectures, which were 
regularly continued in subsequent years. We have seen that 
he had prepared himself for these pursuits by previous 
studies ; and his letters show that he had made up his mind 
to devote himself to them for some years to come. In 1 845 he 
produced his Elements of Morality^ wherein the subject is 
treated systematically ; and subsequently he wrote, or edited, 
works devoted to special parts of it, as the Lectures on the 
History of Moral Philosophy in England ; Grotius de Jure 
Belli et Pacis\ and the Platonic Dialogues for English 
Readers. The permanent hold which the second of these 
two books took on his mind has been recorded by his 
munificent foundation of a Professorship of International 
Law in connexion with the new buildings for Trinity 
College, with the motto Pad sacrum inscribed on their fagade, 
which he planned, and lived long enough to see partly built 

As time went on, and Mr. Whewell approached his fiftieth 
year, he began to feel that ' College rooms are no home for 
declining years.* His friends were leaving, or had left ; he 
did not make new ones ; and he was banning to lead a life 
of loneliness which was very oppressive to him. In 1840 he 
thought seriously of taking a College living, but his friend Mr. 
Hare dissuaded him ; and the letters that passed between 
them on this subject are among the most interesting in the 
volume. In 1841 he made up his mind to settle in Cambridge 
as a married man, with his Professorship and his ethical 
studies as an employment. The lady of his choice was Miss 
Cordelia Marshall. He was married on October 12, 1841, 
and on the very same day, Dr. Wordsworth, the Master of 
Trinity, wrote to him at Coniston, where he was spending his 
honeymoon, announcing his intention of resigning, and his 
hope that he would become his successor. The news, which 
seems to have been quite unexpected, spread rapidly among 

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1 66 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

the small circle of Dr. WhewelFs intimate friends ; and suc- 
ceeding posts brought letters from Dr. Worsley and others, 
urging him ' not to linger in his hymeneal Elysium/ but to go 
up to London at once, and solicit the office from the Prime 
Minister, Sir Robert Peel. Dr. Whewell describes himself as 
' vehemently disturbed ; ' most probably he was unwilling to 
comply with what seems to us to have been extraordinary 
advice. He did comply, however, and went to London, where 
he found a letter from Sir Robert, offering him the Master- 
ship. It is pleasant to be able to record that the offer was 
made spontaneously, before any solicitations had reached the 
Minister. Dr. Whewell accepted it on October i8; had an 
interview with Sir Robert on the 19th ; returned to Coniston 
by the night mail ; and on the 23rd (according to Mr. 
Todhunter) had sufficiently recovered from his excitement to 
sit down to compose the first lecture of a new course on 
Moral Philosophy. 

The appointment was felt to be a good one, though it 
must be admitted that there were dissentient voices. It was 
notorious that Dr. Wordsworth had resigned as soon as Lord 
Melbourne had quitted office, in order to prevent the election 
of either Dean Peacock or Professor Sedgwick, both of whom 
were very popular with the Fellows. The feeling in College, 
therefore, was rather against the new Master than with him. 
Nor was he personally popular. We now know, from the 
letters which he wrote, in reply to congratulations, to Lord 
Lyttelton, Bishop Thirlwall, Mr. Hare, and others, how diffi- 
dent he was of his fitness for the office, and how anxious to 
discharge its high duties becomingly. Mr. Hare had evidently 
been giving advice with some freedom, as was his wont, for 
Dr. Whewell replies : — 

* I perceive and feel the value of the advice you give me, and I 
have no wish, I think, either to deny or to defend the failings you 
point out. In a person holding so eminent a station as mine will be, 
ever5rthing impatient and overbearing is of course quite out of place ; 
and though it may cost me some effort, my conviction of this truth is 
so strong that I think it cannot easily lose its hold. As to my love 
of disputation, I do not deny that it has been a great amusement to 
me ; but I find it to be so little of an amusement to others that I 
should have to lay down my logical cudgels for the sake of good 
manners alone.' 

The writer of these sentences was far too straightforward 
not to have meant every word that he wrote ; and we feel 
sure that he tried to carry out his good intentions. We are 
compelled, however, to admit that he failed. He was im- 

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i882. Half a Centufy of Cambridge Life. 167 

patient and he was overbearing ; or he was thought to be so, 
which, so far as his success as a Master went, came to the 
same thing. He had lived so long as a bachelor among 
bachelors — giving and receiving thrusts in argument, like a 
pugilist in a fair fight — that he had become somewhat 
pachydermatous. It is probable, too, that he was quite 
ignorant of the weight of his own blows. He forgot those he 
received, and expected his antagonist to have an equally short 
memory. Again, the high view which he took of his position 
as Master laid him open to the charge of arrogance. We 
believe the true explanation to be that he was too conscien- 
tious, if such a phrase be admissible ; too inflexible in exacting 
from others the same strict obedience to Collie rules which 
he imposed upon himself. There are two ways, however, of 
doing most things ; and he was unlucky in nearly always 
choosing the wrong one. For instance, his hospitality was 
boundless ; whenever strangers came to Cambridge, they 
were entertained at Trinity Lodge ; and, besides, there were 
weekly parties at which the residents were received. The 
rooms are spacious, and the welcome was intended to be a 
warm one ; but the parties were not successful. Even at 
those social gatherings he never forgot that he was Master ; 
compelling all his guests to come in their gowns, and those 
who came only after dinner to wear them during the entire 
evening. Then an idea became current that no undei^raduate 
might sit down. So far as this notion was not wholly erroneous, 
it was based on the evident fact that the great drawing-room, 
large as it is, could not contain more than a very limited 
number of guests, supposing them all to sit ; and that the 
undergraduates were obviously those who ought to stand. A 
strong feeling against anybody, however, resembles a popular 
panic ; argument is powerless against it ; and the victim of it 
must be content to wait until his persecutors are weary with 
fault-finding. In Dr. WhewelFs case it seemed to matter 
very little what he did, or what he left undone ; he was sure 
to give offence. The inscription commemorating himself on 
the restored oriel window of the lodge ; the motto, Lampada 
tradam^ which he adopted for his arms ; his differences with 
the judges about their entertainment at the lodge; his at- 
tempts to stop the disorderly interruptions of undergraduates 
in the Senate House ; and a hundred other similar matters, 
were all made occasions for unfavourable comment both in 
and out of College. The comic literature of the day not un- 
frequently alluded to him as the type of the College Don and 
the University Snob ; and in 1847, when ^^ actively promoted 

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1 68 Half a Century of Cambridge Life, April 

the election of the Prince Consort as Chancellor, a letter in 
the Times newspaper, signed ' Junius/ informed Prince Albert 
that he had been made 'the victim chiefly of one man of 
notoriously turbulent character and habits. Ask how HE 
is received by the University whenever he appears,' &c. ; and 
a second letter, signed ' Anti-Junius,' affecting to reply to 
these aspersions, described in ironical language, with infinite 
humour, 'the retiring modesty, the unfeigned humility, the 
genuine courtesy ' of the ' honoured and beloved Whewell/ * 
We are happy to be able to say that he outlived much of this 
obloquy ; his temper grew gradually softer — a change due 
partly to age, partly to the genial influence of both his wives ; 
and before the end came he had achieved respect, if not 
popularity. The notion that he was arrogant and self- 
asserting may still be traced in the epigrams to which the 
essay on The Plurality of Worlds gave occasion. Sir Francis 
Doyle wrote : — 

* Though you through the regions of space should have travelled, 
And of nebular films the remotest unravelled, 
You'll find, though you tread on the bounds of infinity, 
That God's greatest work is the Master of Trinity.' 

Even better than this was the remark that * Whewell thinks 
himself a fraction of the universe, and wishes to make the 
denominator as small as possible.* These, however, were 
harmless sallies, at which he was probably as much amused 
as any one. 

It would be unbecoming to intrude domestic matters into 
an essay like the present, in which we have proposed to our- 
selves a different object ; but we cannot wholly omit to draw 
attention to the painful, but deeply interesting, chapters in 
which Mrs. Stair Douglas describes her uncle's grief at the 
loss of his first wife in 1855, and of his second wife in 1865. 
His strong nature had recovered after a time from the first 
of these terrible shocks, under which he had wisely dis- 
tracted his mind by the composition of his essay on The 
Plurality of Worlds^ and by again accepting the Vice- 
Chancellorship. The second, however, fell upon him with 
even! greater severity. He was ten years older, and there- 
fore less able to bear up against it. Lady Affleck died a 
little before midnight on Saturday, April i, 1865 ; and her 
heart-broken husband, true to his theory that the chapel 

^ The Times y February 25 and 26, 1847. Mrs. Stair Douglas, p. 285, 
prints a letter fi-om Archdeacon Hare, who had been disturbed by reports 
of the Vice-Chancellor's vehemence. 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 169 

service ought to be regarded as family prayers, appeared in 
his place at the early service on Sunday morning, not fearing 
to commit to the sympathies of his College * the saddest of 
all sights, an old man's bereavement, and a strong man's 
tears.' * We can still recall the look of intense sorrow on 
his face ; a look which, though he tried to rouse himself, 
and pursue his usual avocations, never completely wore off. 
He survived her for rather less than a year, dying on March 
6, 1866, from injuries received from a fall from his horse on 
February 24 previous. It was at first hoped that these, like 
those he had received in many a similar accident — for he was 
a careless rider, and used to say that he had measured the 
depth of every ditch in Cambridgeshire, by falling into it — 
were not serious ; but the brain had sustained an injury, and 
he gradually sank. His last thoughts were for the College. 
On the very last morning he signified his wish that the 
windows of his bedroom might be opened wide, that he might 
see the sun shine on the Great Court, and he smiled as he was 
reminded that he used to say that the sky never looked so 
blue as when it was framed by its walls and turrets. Among 
the numerous tributes to his memory which then appeared, 
none we think are more appropriate than the following lines, 
the authorship of which we believe we are right in ascribing 
to the late Mr. Tom Taylor : «— 

* Gone fi*om the rule that was questioned so rarely, 

Gone from the seat where he laid down the law ; 
Gaunt, stem, and stalwart, with broad brow set squarely 
O'er the fierce eye, and the granite-hewn jaw. 

* No more the Great Court shall see him dividing 

Surpliced crowds thick round the low chapel door ; 
No more shall idlers shrink cowed from his chiding, 
Senate-house cheers sound his honour no more. 

' Son of a hammer-man : right kin of Thor, he 
Clove his way through, right onward amain ; 
Ruled when he conquered, was proud of his glory, — 
Sledge-hammer smiter, in body and brain. 

* Sizar and Master, — unhasting, unresting ; 

Each step a triumph, in fair combat won — 
Rivals he faced like a strong swimmer breasting 
Waves that, once grappled with, terrors have none. 

* Dr. Lightfoot's Sermon, preached in the College Chapel on Sunday, 
March 18, 1866. 

* They appeared in Punch for March 17, 1866. 

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1 70 Half a Century of Cambridge Life, April 

* Trinity marked him o'er-topping the crowd of 

Heads and Professors, self-centred, alone : 
Rude as his strength was, that strength he was proud of, 
Body and mind, she knew all was her own. 

* " Science his strength, and Omniscience his weakness," 

So they said of him, who envied his power : 
Those whom he silenced with more might than meekness 
Carped at his back, in his face fain to cower. 

* Milder men's graces might in him be lacking. 

Still he was honest, kind-hearted, and brave ; 
Never good cause looked in vain for his backing, 
FooLhe ne'er spared, but he never screened knave. 

* England should cherish all lives from beginning 

Lowly as his to such honour that rise ; 
Lives of fair running and straightforward winning. 
Lives, that so winning, may boast of the prize. 

* They that in years past have chafed at his chiding, 

They that in boyish mood strove 'gainst his sway. 
Boys' hot blood cooled, boys* impatience subsiding, 
Reverently think of " the Master " to-day. 

'Counting his courage, his manhood, his knowledge. 

Counting the glory he won for us all, 
Cambridge — not only his dearly loved College — 
Mourns his seat empty in chapel and hall. 

* Lay him down here — in the dim ante-chapel. 

Where Newton's statue looms ghostly and white, . 
Broad brow set rigid in thought-mast'ring grapple. 
Eyes that look upward for light — and more light 

* So should he rest — not where daisies are growing : 

Newton beside him, and over his head 
Trinity's full tide of life, ebbing, flowing. 
Morning and evening, as he lies dead. 

* Sailors sleep best within boom of the billow. 

Soldiers in sound of the shrill trumpet call : 

So his own Chapel his death-sleep should pillow, 

Loved in his life- time with love beyond alL' 

We have not thought it necessary to go through the events 
of his Mastership in order, because progressive development 
of thought and occupation had by that time ended, and his 
efforts were chiefly directed towards establishing in the Uni- 
versity the changes which his previous studies had led him to 
regard as necessary, and which, from the vantage-ground of 
his present position, he was enabled to enforce. In his own 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 171 

College, so far as its education was concerned, he had little to 
do except to maintain the high standard which already existed. 
As tutor he had been successful in increasing the importance 
of the paper of questions in Philosophy in the Fellowship Ex- 
amination ; and subsequently he had introduced his Elements 
of Morality^ his preface to Mackintosh's Ethical Philosophy y 
and his edition of Butler's Three Sermons into the examination 
at the end of the Michaelmas Term, but none of those funda- 
mental measures which have achieved for Trinity College its 
present position of pre-eminence will in the future be asso- 
ciated with his name ; unless the abolition of the Westminster 
Scholars be thought sufficiently important to be classed in this 
category. On the contrary, it is remarkable how little in- 
fluence he exerted on the College while Master. He saw but 
little of any of the Fellows, and became intimate with none. 
In theory he was a despot, but in practice he deferred to the 
College oflScers ; and, with the exception of certain domestic 
matters, such as' granting leave to studious undergraduates to 
live in College during the Long Vacation^ and the formation 
of a cricket-ground for the use of the College, to which he and 
Lady Affleck both contributed largely, he originated nothing. 
As regards the constitution of the College, he was strongly 
opposed to change. The so-called Reform of the Statutes in 
1842 amounted to nothing more than the excision of certain 
obsolete usages, and the accommodation in some few other 
points of the written law to the usual practice of the College. 
The proposals for a more substantive reform which were made 
by certain of the Fellows in 1856, when called together in 
accordance with the Act of Parliament passed in that year, 
met with his vehement disapproval. It was a mental defect 
with him that he could never be brought to see that others 
had as much right as himself to hold special views. If he 
saw no defect in a statute or a practice, no one else had any 
right to see one. Here is a specimen of the language he used 
respecting the junior Fellows, all, it must be remembered, 
men of some distinction, whom he himself had had a hand in 
electing : — 

* It is a very sad evening of my College life, to have the College 
pulled in pieces and ruined by a set of schoolboys. It is very 
nearly that kind of work. The Act of Parliament gives all our 
Fellows equal weight for certain purposes, and the younger part of 
them all vote the same way, as against the Seniors. Several of these 
juveniles are really boys, several others only Bachelors of Arts, so we 
have crazy work as I think it' 

As regards the University, as distinct from the College, 

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172 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

he deserves recognition as having effected important educa- 
tional changes. These range over the whole of his life, 
commencing with the novelties which he introduced, in con- 
junction with Herschel, Peacock, and Babbage, into the 
study of mathematics,- so early as 18 19. It was his con- 
stant endeavour, whatever office he held — ^whether Moderator, 
Examiner, or College lecturer — to keep the improvement and 
development of tlie Mathematical Tripos constantly before 
the University. But, before we enumerate the special im- 
provements or developments with which he may be credited, 
let us consider what was his leading idea. He held that 
every man who was worth educating at all, had within him 
various faculties, such as the mathematical, the philological, 
the critical, the poetical, and the like ; and that the truly 
liberal education was that which would develop all of these, 
some more, some less, according to the individual nature. 
A devotion to * favourite and selected pursuits ' was a proof, 
according to him, of * effeminacy of mind.' We are not quite 
sure that he would have been prepared to introduce one or 
more classical papers into the Mathematical Tripos ; but he 
was emphatic in wishing to preserve the provisions by which 
classical men were obliged to pass certain mathematical 
examinations. He did not want ^much mathematics' from 
them, he said ; * but a man who either cannot or will not 
understand Euclid, is a man whom we lose nothing by not 
keeping among us.' ^ He was no friend to examinations. 
He * repudiated emulation as the sole spring of action in our 
education,' but did not see his way to reducing it. It was 
probably this feeling that made him object to private tuition 
so strongly as he always did. In opposition to private tutors, 
he wished to increase attendance at Professors' lectures ; and 
succeeded in 'connecting them with examinations,' as he 
called it ; in other words, making attendance at them com- 
pulsory for precisely those men who were least capable of 
deriving benefit from the highest teaching which the Uni- 
versity could give. 

The first definite novelty which he promoted was the 
Voluntary Theological Examination. This was established 
in 1843. He took great interest in making it a success, and 
as Vice-Chancellor brought it under the direct notice of the 
Bishops. Next came the scheme for the establishment of a 
Moral Sciences Tripos and a Natural Sciences Tripos, which 
he warmly supported ; as he did the further measure of 

^ These views are admirably expressed in a letter to Archdeacon 
Hare, printed by Mrs. Stair Douglas, p. 264. 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life. 173 

granting the degree of Bachelor of Arts to those who satisfied 
the examiners not only in these Triposes, but in the Classical 
Tripos also. The two Triposes which we mentioned first 
were more especially his work. The first of them cannot, at 
present at least, be called successful ; the second, on the con- 
trary, shows signs of vigorous vitality and prc^essive deve- 
lopment Further, it must not be forgotten that, so far back 
as 1828, he had brought before the University the want of 
proper lecture-rooms and museums ; and that, as a matter of 
course, he promoted the erection of the present museums 
in 1863. We are justified, therefore, in claiming for him 
no inconsiderable share in that development of natural science 
which is one of the glories of Cambridge ; and when we see 
the crowds which throng the classes of the scientific pro- 
fessors, lecturers, and demonstrators, we often wish that he 
could have been spared a few years longer to enter into the 
fruit of his labours. 

As regards the constitution of the University he earnestly 
deprecated the interference of a Commission. He held that 
' University reformers should endeavour to reform by efforts 
within the body, and not by calling in the stranger.' He 
therefore worked very hard as a member of what was called 
the 'Statutes Revision Syndicate,' first appointed in 1849, 
and continued in subsequent years. His views on these im- 
portant matters have been recorded by him in his work on a 
Liberal Education. It is worth remarking that while he was in 
favour of so advanced a step as making College funds avail- 
able for University purposes, he strenuously maintained the 
desirability of preserving that ancient body, the Caput. One 
of the most vexatious provisions of its constitution was that 
each member of it had an absolute veto on any grace to 
which he might object. As the body was selected, the whole 
legislative power of the University was practically vested in 
the Heads of Houses, who are not usually the persons best 
qualified to understand the feeling of the Universitj-. Dr. 
Whewell has frequently recorded, in his correspondence, his 
vexation when graces proposed by himself were rejected by 
this body ; and yet, though he knew how badly the consti- 
tution worked, his attachment to existing forms was so great, 
that he could not be persuaded to yield on any point except 
the mode of election. 

We have spoken first of Dr. Whewell's work in his College 
and University, because it was to them that he dedicated 
his life. We must now say a word or two on his literary 
and scientific attainments. Dr. Whewell wrote an excellent 

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1 74 Half a Century of Cambridge Life. April 

English style, which reflects the personality of the writer to 
a more than usual extent. As might be expected from his 
studies and tone of mind, he always wrote with clearness and 
good sense, though occasionally his periods are rough and 
unpolished, defects due to his habit of writing as fast as he 
could make the pen traverse the paper. But, just as it was 
not natural to him to be grave for long together, we find his 
most serious criticisms and pamphlets — nay, even his didactic 
works — lightened by good-humoured banter and humorous 
illustrations. Again, when he was thoroughly serious and in 
earnest, his style rose to a dignified eloquence which has 
rarely been equalled and never surpassed. For an illustration 
of our meaning we beg our readers to turn to the final 
chapters of the Plurality of Worlds. He was always fond of 
writing verse, and published more than one volume of poems 
and translations, of which the latter are by far the most 
meritorious. Nor must we forget his valiant efforts to get 
hexameters and elegiacs recognized as English metres. 
Example being better than precept, he began by printing a 
translation of Goethe's Hermann und Dorothea^ in the metre 
of the original, which he at first circulated privately among 
his friends ; but subsequently he discussed the subject in 
several papers, in which he laid down the rules which he 
thought were required for successful composition of the metre. 
His main principle is to pay attention to accent, not to 
quality, and to use trochees where the ancients would have 
used spondees ; in other words, where according to the classical 
hexameter we should have two strong syllables, we are to 
have a strong syllable followed by a weak one. Here is a 
short specimen from the Isle of the Sirens : — 

' Over the broad-spread sea the thoughtful son of Ulysses 
Steered his well-built bark. Full long had he sought for his father, 
Till hope, lingering, fled ; for the face of the water is trackless- 
Then rose strong in his mind the thought of his home and his island ; 
And he desired to return ; to behold his Ithacan people, 
Listen their just complaints, restrain the fierce and the lawless.' 

We are glad to see that Mrs. Stair Douglas has reprinted 
the elegiacs written after the death of Mrs. Whewell. We 
cannot believe that the metre will ever be popular ; but in 
the case of this particular poem eccentricities of style will 
be forgiven for the sake of the dignified beauty of the 
thoughts. With the exception of In Memoriam, we know of 
no finer expression of Christian sorrow and Christian hope. 

We are sorry to have to record that after Dr. Whewell's 

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i882. Half a Century of Cambridge Life, 1 75 

death his executors found that the copyright of his works had 
no mercantile value. He perhaps formed a true estimate of 
his own powers when he said that all he could do was to 
* systematize portions of knowledge which the consent of 
opinions has brought into readiness for such a process.' ^ His 
name will not be associated with any great discovery, or any 
original theory, if we except his memoir on Crystallography, 
which is the basis of the system since adopted ; and his 
researches on the Tides, which have afforded a clear and satis- 
factory view of those of the Atlantic, while it is hardly his 
fault if those ot the Pacific were not elucidated with equal 
clearness.^ It too often happens that those who originally 
suggest theories are forgotten in the credit due to those who 
develop them ; and we are afraid that this has been the fate 
of Dr. Whewell. Moreover, since his time scientific specu- 
lation has taken a new direction ; his favourite theory, that 
our ideas are innate, and that both in the inductive sciences 
and in morality we can find a foundation in some immutable 
principle, no longer finds general favour. We cannot but think, 
however, that the History of the Inductive Sciences will still 
be referred to as a storehouse of facts ; carefully investigated, 
and agreeably linked together. We are sorry to find that he 
was not considered really great as a mathematician ; he was 
too much wedded to ancient geometrical methods ; and ' had 
no taste for the more refined methods of modern analysis.' ' 
Again, in one very important point, the special characteristic 
of Cambridge men, he was certainly deficient. We mean, 
accuracy. It used to be remarked how often his examination 
papers contained errors. This was not because he prepared 
them too hastily. We were once staying in his house when 
he was making his paper for the Smith's Prize (the highest 
mathematical examination at Cambridge, in which the Master 
of Trinity is an ex officio examiner), and can testify to the 
pains he took over it. But he seemed to think that accuracy 
in minor points was of less importance than one would have 
expected from a mathematician of his power, whose whole 
life had been spent in severe studies. So, too, in one of his 
most elegant mathematical investigations (read before the 
Cambridge Philosophical Society in 1850), the second memoir 
on what he styles 'the intrinsic value of a curve,' after 
very cleverly performing the integration necessary to find 

1 Mrs. Stair Douglas, p. 208. 

» Memoir by Sir John Herschel, Proceedings 0/ Royal Society^ xvi., p,lvi. 
' Bishop Goodwin's article in MacmillatCs Magazine for December 
1881, p. 140. 

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176 Not Nonconformists y but Dissenters. April 

the rectangular co-ordinates of the running pattern turve 
<^=w sin Sy he gives a wrong result Again, to illustrate the 
same defect in another subject, we remember hearing that he 
submitted some of the sheets of his translation of Plato's 
Dialogues to one of the first scholars in the country, who 
indicated * the grosser blunders/ Notwithstanding the pains 
he had taken, however, several of the errors pointed out were 
allowed to appear in the published volumes. In science, as 
in other matters, his strong conservative instincts stood in 
his way. He could not be persuaded to accept new theories. 
To the last he resisted LyelFs geological system, and Mr. 
Darwin's evolution.^ 

We have felt it our duty to point out these shortcomings ; 
but it is a far more agreeable one to turn from them, and con- 
clude our essay by pointing out the lofty tone of religious 
enthusiasm which runs through all his works. As Dr. 
Lightfoot pointed out in his funeral sermon, the world of 
matter without, the world of thought within, alike spoke to 
him of the Eternal Creator, the Beneficent Father. Even 
his opponent, Sir David Brewster, who more strongly than all 
his other critics had denounced what he termed the paradox 
advanced in The Plurality of Worlds, that our earth may be 
' the oasis in the desert of the solar system,' was generous 
enough to admit that posterity would forgive the author * on 
account of the noble sentiments, the lofty aspirations, and the 
suggestions, almost divine, which mark his closing chapter on 
the future of the universe.' 


I. A Treatise of Divine Worship, tending to prove that the 
Ceremonies imposed upon the Ministers of the Gospel in 
England are in their use unlawful. By W. Bradshaw. 
(1604. Republished in 1660.) 

^ We are not sure that he ever allowed the Origin of Species to be 
admitted into the College library. It was certainly refused more than 
once, being probably dismissed with the expression which he was fond 
of using when, as Chairman of the Seniority, he read the list of books 
proposed — * a worthless publication.' 

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x882. Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. 177 

2. TJu Unreasonableness of the Separation made apparent. By 

W. Bradshaw. (16 14. Republished in 1640.) 

3. Superstitio Superstes, or the Relics of Superstition. By D. 

Cawdrey. (164 1.) 

4. Independency a Great Schism. A Reply to Dr. Owen. By 

D. Cawdrey. (1657.) 

5. Independency furtlier proved to be a Schism, In answer to 

Owen's reply. By D. CAWDREY. (1658.) 

The student of the ecclesiastical tendencies of our generation 
cannot fail to notice, when he takes account of the words and 
phrases which are floating upon the surface of our contro- 
versies, that general consent with which the Separatists 
from the English Church have all but abolished the title of 
"* Dissenters ' — of which they were once so proud — and have 
adopted in its stead the title of ' Nonconformists.' We shall 
not now attempt to show for what reasons this most signifi- 
cant change of nomenclature has been made : whether from 
historical ignorance, from astuteness, or from both. It is 
^evident that it is not due to the mere anxiety of the modem 
Dissenters to be known to the English nation by a positive 
rather than a negative denomination, for ' Nonconformity ' and 
^ Dissent ' are both negative denominations. Besides, when- 
•ever the Dissenters wish to assert their positive standing, they 
•define their sects as * the Free Churches of England/ or * the 
Voluntary Churches,' in contradistinction to the historical 
•Church of England, which they assume to have been manu- 
factured at some time or other by the State, and to be more 
or less enslaved and tyrannized over by the State, or to be 
patronized and favoured by it. The modem adherents of 
those English sects which were successively generated out of 
the foreign Calvinist germ — the Presbyterians, Independents, 
and Baptists — have neither etymological nor historical right 
to the title of Nonconformists. The Dissenters are not the 
<iirect heirs of the Nonconformists of history. They are the 
direct heirs of the Separatists of history. The Nonconformists 
and Separatists were not one and the same; they were not 
-even friends and allies ; they were most bitter foes. The gulf 
which divided the Nonconformist from the Separatist or 
Dissenter was deeper and wider than that which divided the 
' Nonconformist from the Conformist 

The difference of the two words Nonconformist and 

Separatist gives some indication of the original difference 

between the two historical movements. A * Nonconformist * 

meant one who had a quarrel against Hie form or forms of tlie 


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178 Not Nonconformists y but Dissenters. April 

actual historical Church, of which he was a member, but who 
had no fundamental quarrel against its substance, stuff, or 
matter. A Separatist, Sectary, or actual Dissenter, meant 
one who might or might not quarrel with the form or forms 
of the real historical Church, of which he refused to be a 
member, but who had a fundamental quarrel with the sub- 
stanccy stuff, or matter of the Church. 

The original English Nonconformists regarded the historical 
Church as a true and proper Church, much deformed indeed^ 
and in sore need of ' a godly thorough re/J?r/«ation ; ' but they 
dared not separate themselves from it, nor persuade others tO" 
leave it, nor set up a rival society, lest they should thereby 
commit the sin of schism. The dread of schism is one of the 
primary traditions of Nonconformity. The Nonconformist 
opponents of the Brownists, or early Independent Separatists^ 
contended that the Church of England had been a true Church 
even before the Reformation, notwithstanding its long sub- 
jection to the Pope, whom the Nonconformist and Separatist 
agreed in regarding as the Antichrist. George Gifford, the 
Nonconformist, in his controversy with the Independent 
Separatists, Henry Barrow and John Greenwood, lays down 
a series of propositions which show that the Nonconformists 
and the Conformists stood on common ground against the 
Separatists. He states (i) that *The Church of England, in 
the time of Popery, was a member of a Universal Church ; * 
(2) that ' She had not her being of a Church of Christ from 
Rome ; ' (3) * Nor took her beginning of being a Church by sepa- 
rating herself from that Roman Synagogue ; ' (4) * But, having 
her spirits revived, and her eyes opened, by the Light of the 
Heavenly Word, she did cast forth that tyranny of Antichrist, 
with his abominable idolatry, heresies, and false worship, and 
sought to bring all her children into the right faith and true 
worship of God.' This sturdy Puritan concludes that the 
rejection of Antichrist's tyranny had not made the Church 
of England a new Church, as the Papists and Separatists 
assumed, but simply ' a purer and more faithful Church than 
before.' ^ Samuel Clark, the popular and voluminous author 
of the Martyrology, the Marrow of Divinity y and the Discourse 
against Tolerationy may be cited as a witness to the survival 

* A Short Reply unto Henry Barrow and John Greenwoody the chief 
Ringleaders of our Donatists in Englandy 1591, p. 55. As Gifford, or 
Giffard, was one of the Puritan clergy who petitioned the Parliament 
against the English hierarchy, he doubtless held that the National Church 
would have become still more pure and faithful if she had rejected or 
modified the national Episcopate as well as the extra-national Papacy. 

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i882. Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. 179 

of the old Nonconformist tradition against schism at the time 
of the passing of the Act of Uniformity, 1662. After resigning 
his benefice, * he attended the Church of England both as a 
hearer and as a communicant ; for,' as he says, * he durst not 
separate from it, nor was he satisfied about gathering a private 
Church out of a true Church, which he judged the Church of 
England to be. He continued twenty years in this retirement' 
He remained a Nonconformist, and he justified his right to 
that title by refusing to become a Separatist.^ 

The one persistent aim of the English Nonconformists, 
from the time of the Tudor Act of Uniformity to the time of 
. the Stuart Act of Uniformity, was the realization, by the arm 
of the Sovereign or of the Parliament, of their own ideal 
* godly thorough Re- formation ' of the existing National 
Church. The Nonconformists did not aim, like their foes the 
Separatists, at the production of an entirely new visible Church, 
or of entirely new visible Churches, but at the remodelling of 
the already existing Church after * the pattern of the best 
Reformed Churches.' The English Separatists, Sectaries, or 
Dissenters, on the contrary, regarded the existing Church of 
England as no Church at all. The Separatists agreed with 
their Nonconformist foes in their horror of schism. If an 
Elizabethan Separatist had believed that his own parish 
church was in any sense a true visible Church of Christ — as 
his educated Liberationist successors probably believe every 
present parochial church in England to be — he would not have 
dared to separate himself from it. But as he believed the 
parish congregation to be at its best a mingle-mangle of the 
elect and the reprobate, at its worst a synagogue of Satan, he 
dared not remain in communion with it. The Nonconformist 
held separation from the parish church or the National Church 
to be the sin of schism : the Separatist or Dissenter held it to 
be the very first and foremost of Christian duties.* 

^ S. Palmer. The Noticonformisfs Memorial, 1802, i. p. loi. 

* * There is nothing to be expected from Christ by any member of the 
Church of England but a pouring out of His eternal wrath upon them.' 
De Cluse, the most active elder in H. Ainsworth's * Church,' cited in a 
Dialogue between an Anti-Christian (or churchgoer) and a Christian (or 
non-churchgoer), published first in 161 5 an Objection Answered, dfc,^ 
republished under other titles in 1620, 1662, 1827, and by the Baptist 
Hanserd KnoUys Society in 1846, p. 156. 'I may never go to these 
(parish church) assemblies again without sin,' p. 157. 'They (the parish 
diurches) are in God's account so far from being true churches, that 
they are synagogues of Satan,' p. 161. This ferocious attack upon Con- 
formists and Nonconformists has received the imprimatur of Separatists 
for more than two centuries. Similarly J. Canne, * Our inference is that 
the public assemblies of England are false and anti-Christian, and there- 

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I So Not Nonconformists y but Dissenters, April 

To any one who has patiently traced the development of 
Nonconformity and Separatism through our Ecclesiastical his- 
tory, from the Act of Uniformity under Elizabeth to the Act of 
Uniformity under Charles the Second, the distinction between 
these two rival forces will be evident. Indeed, the whole 
course of that history must be a confusirig chaos to its student 
unless he keeps the fundamental difference betwixt the Non- 
conformist and the Separatist always in view. Throughout 
the period of the later Tudors and the Stuarts we find four 
systems contending for religious supremacy in England : the 
extra-national Papal system ; the old national English system, 
freshly liberated from Papal domination ; the French, Scottish, 
Dutch, Swiss, Genevan, Nonconformist, or Puritan system, 
which aimed at being nationalized in England, applying first 
to the monarchs and afterwards to the Parliament to force its 
* godly thorough Re-formation ' upon the parish churches and 
the National Church ; and lastly, the Separatist, Sectarian, or 
Dissenting system. The Papists and the Separatists stood 
professedly outside the English Church; they agreed in 
denying that it was a Church, the former on the ground that 
it was not Catholic, the latter on the ground that it was 
Catholic. The Conformists and Nonconformists, who were by 
far the largest and most powerful of the four parties, wrestled 
for supremacy within the Church. 

It is not strictly correct, indeed, to call the Conformists a 
party, since they constituted throughout the sixteenth and 
seventeenth centuries — as they still do — the immense majority 
of the English people. There is plentiful proof that the mass 
of the people was Conformist at heart even under the Puritan 
tyranny, when either a Nonconformist or a Separatist was 
forced as pastor, by the secular arm and the pseudo-episcopal 
Tryers, upon almost every English parochial congregation.^ 
The Conformists and Nonconformists agreed in holding that 
the Church of Jesus Christ ought to be nationally and paro- 
chially organized : that the Father, of Whom every fatherland 
and family in heaven and earth is named, by His civilizing 
constitution of humanity into states and parishes, into na- 
tions and local communes, has provided an order or mould 
to which the Church of His Son ought to conform all her 
regulations. The Conformists and Nonconformists, in spite 
of their bitter civil war with one another, were allied in their 
common opposition to Separatism or Dissent. In contro- 

fore to be left' {A Necessity of Separation, 1634, p. 167. Reprint of 


^ See testimony of Owen, Baxter, and Kentish, note i, p. 185, inf. 

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i882. Not Nonconformists, but Disseftters, i8i 

versial and popular literature, from the end of the sixteenth 
century to the middle of the seventeenth, we find the two 
parties within the Church differenced by a variety of names. 
The Conformists were called * Conformitans/ in opposition to 
Puritans ; * Formalists/ not in a purely offensive sense ; ' Pre- 
latists/ * Pontificals/ * The Formal Protestants/ and, later in the 
seventeenth century, * Common-Prayer Men * and * Episco- 
palians/ * Church-and-State Men,' or * Establishmentarians,* 
they were never called : for such titles would have described a 
Nonconformist quite as exactly as they would have described 
a Conformist. The Nonconformists, in contradistinction to 
the Conformists on one side and to the Separatists on the other 
side, were called * Puritans,* * Precisians/ * Inconformitans/ 

* Inconformists/ and ' Reformists.' The last denomination was 
long used by the Separatists to describe that party of the Left 
within the Church of England which refused either to con- 
form or to separate. In 1590, Barrow, the early Independent 
Separatist — to whom the Congregationalist sect owed one of 
its temporary titles, * Barrowism ' — called the Nonconformists 

* the Reformists/ and the clergy of their party * the Reforming 
priests/ while he called the conforming majority of the clergy 

* the Pontifical priests/ ^ In 1600, Francis Johnson, the Inde- 
pendent, contrasted the two parties within the Anglican Church 
as the ' Formalists and Reformists,* but spoke of both alike as 

* consenting and approving that which is done unto us,' the 
Separatists or Dissenters. * Not the prelates alone,' he said, 
*but you also, the Forward-preachers and professors, have 
wittingly and willingly your hand in our blood/ ^ In 1610, 
the famous John Robinson, the second founder of Inde- 
pendency or Congregationalism, a sturdy foe of Nonconfor- 
mity, uses the words * Puritans * and * Reformists ' to describe 
that party which refused either to conform or to separate, 
which would neither obey the bishops nor join the Dissenters.' 
In 161 8, Robinson published a reply to the Nonconformist 

* A Brief Discovery of the False Church, p. 192. 

*^ An Answer to Master H, Jacob his Treatise concerning the Priests 
of t/ie Church of England made by the Prelates, accepted and joined unto 
by the People, which he (H. Jacob) termeth a Pastoral Calling, 4to,p. 177. 
Henry Jacob at that time was a Nonconformist exile. In 1599 he had 
printed two pamphlets at Middelburg, in Zeeland — A Defence of the 
Churches and Ministry of England against Mr, F. Johnson and others 
of the Separation commonly called Brownists, and -^ Short Treatise con-' 
ceming tJte Trueness of Pastoral Calling in Pastors made by Prelates, 

* A Justification of Separation from the Church of England. This 
thick quarto of nearly 500 pages was a reply to Christian Advertisements 
and Counsels of Peace, also Dissi4asives from the Separatists' Schism, by 
Richard Bernard, Vicar of Worksop, a leading Nonconformist. 

Digitized by 

Google — 

1 82 Not Nonconformists y but Dissenters, April 

John Yates, a clergyman in Norwich, who had attacked the 
Separatists.' Robinson excuses himself for replying to Yates 
rather than to * Mr. Hall's large and learned volume,' on the 
ground that Hall's * treatise is as much, and more immediately, 
against the Reformists and their cause in the main, as against 
us and ours.' ^ Two years later, in his remarkable address to 
the New England pilgrims, before the sailing of * The May 
Flower,' Robinson spoke of the Nonconformist clergy as 

* the unconformable ministers of England, and asserted that 
there would be no difference between the Nonconformist 
and the Separatist if they could *come to the practice of 
evangelical ordinances out of the kingdom.' The assertion 
reveals a certain defect of grasp in a mind which was other- 
wise singularly lucid. The Nonconformist position was as in- 
distinct to him as the * Low Church ' position is to those dis- 
senting controversialists of a later day who urge * Evangelical ' 
clergymen and laymen to separate from the English Church 
and join one of the sects in order that they may become truly 
evangelical ; or as the * High Church ' position is to those who 
insist that the only way to become really Catholic is to 
separate from the English Church and submit to the Roman 

The Liberationist upon the platform talks a great deal 
about his * Puritan ancestors.* He might as well go further 
back and talk about his * Catholic ancestors.' The term 

* Puritan,* in the controversial literature of the time of 
Elizabeth and James I., never meant a Separatist, a Brownist; 
an Independent or Baptist Dissenter. It always meant a 
Nonconformist who remained in communion with the Church 
of England, and regarded separation from that Church as 
schism ; while the term Protestant nearly always meant an 
Anglican Conformist. The distinction between the * Puritans ' 
and the ' Protestants ' as the two rival parties inside the 
Church, and equally opposed to the Separatists outside the 
Church, is of frequent occurrence. John Canne, the Baptist 
Separatist, distinguishes the two anti-Separatist parties 
within the Church as *the Formal Protestants' and the 

* Reformists,' * Puritans,* or ' Nonconformists.' ^ Henry Ains- 
worth, in 1608, defined the two parties in the National 

* The Peoples Plea for the Exercise of Prophecy , 4to, pp. ^^, 

^ Bishop Hall's A Common Apology of the Church of England against 

the over-just Sect commonly called Brownists, 16 10, 4to, pp. 145. 

^ A Necessity of Separation from the Church of England proved by 

the Nonconformists Principles y 1634. Republished by the Baptist 

Hanserd KnoUys Society in 1849. Address to the Reader, cxx. pp. 105, 

160, 175, 227, &c. 

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i882. Not Nonconformists, but Dissentei^s. 183 

Church as * the Protestants/ who * say Christ's ruling power 
is in the bishops, the prelates/ and * the Puritans/ who say 
'* the ruling power of Christ is the presbytery/ and who aimed 
at the reduction of the bishops to mere moderators.^ Robinson, 
in his reply to R. Bernard, in 1610, draws exactly the same 
distinction. The Papists, he says, plant the power of Christ 
in the Pope, the Protestants in the bishops, the Puritans in 
the presbytery. Canne quotes * a saying of King James,* that 
^ the Puritans are the founders and fathers of the Brownists : 
the latter (saith he) only boldly putting in practice what the 
former do teach, but dare not perform. For what end he 
wrote this I let it pass, but the words in part are true. Our 
separation from the Church of England is by their grounds 
certainly good and lawful, and therefore they say and do 
not' ^ They remained Nonconformists, but they steadily 
refused to become Separatists, or real Dissenters. 

It will be clear from these citations, which might be multi- 
plied a hundredfold, that the Conformist and Nonconformist, 
whatever their differences, remained fellow-members of one 
and the same Church. They differed as to the right form and 
discipline of the Church, and especially as to the application 
of the sacraments to the entirety of the qitizens of the State, 
and to the entirety of the members of each parish. The 
theological difference between these two Church parties is 
probably clearer to us than it was to themselves. The Incar- 
nation was more or less consciously the ground of the Con- 
formist theology. Individual predestination and election, or 
personal consciousness of conversion, held the same place in 
the Nonconformist theology. Here lay the point of theo- 
logical affinity between the Nonconformists and the Separa- 
tists. The Conformists stood upon the fact of the redemption, 
of the totality of the Humankind, of the English nation, 
and of every local parish in England ; they insisted upon the 
title of every human creature to incorporation into the Catholic 
Church by the sacrament of baptism. Hence they came in 

* Counterpoison^ 255. Reprinted 1642. The book was a reply to a 
book by John Sprint, the Puritan or Nonconformist Vicar of Thombury, 
Considerations touching the Points of Difference between the Godly Minis- 
ters and People of the Church of England (or Nonconformists) and the 
Seduced Brethren of the Separation (or Dissenters), and to the Puritan 
R. Bernard's Christian Advertisements, Sprint and Bernard defend 
Nonconformity or Puritanism, not against the Conformists, but against 
the Separatists. Ainsworth reminds them of the * schism ' in their own 
Church between the * Conformitans and Puritans.' In 1618 Sprint pub- 
lished Cassander AnglicanuSy advising conformity as a less evil than 

* Neces. of Sep. 227. 

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184 Not Noftcanformists, but Dissenters. April 

time to strip themselves wholly of that foreign and inconsis- 
tent Calvinist tendency, a tinge of which surprises us even in 
so resolute a Conformist as Hooker ; hence they were labelled 
both by the Nonconformists and Separatists with the damning^ 
epithet of * Arminian.' The Nonconformists were invariably 
Calvinists, and regarded only a part of humanity, of the 
nation, and of the parish, as redeemed, the mass as reprobated. 
Many amongst them were as eager advocates for thtjuredivina 
character of Calvin's ecclesiastical system as for his theology. 
When they demanded the reformation of the Church of 
England after the pattern of * the best Reformed Churches,* 
they used the word * reformed ' in that technical sense which 
it still retains upon the Continent, as opposed to ' Lutheran,* 
not as opposed to 'Roman/ Their ideal was realized in 
Scotland, in Geneva, in Holland, by the Huguenots of France, 
in the Calvinized German Churches {Reformirten Kircheri) of 
the Palatinate, Bremen, Hesse-Cassel, and other States.^ The 
Calvinizing princes of Continental Europe, who, acting upon 
the Erastian principle cujiis regio ejus religio, sought to de- 
Lutheranize their States by force, who treated Lutheranism- 
and Arminianism as political crimes, were the ideal Christian 
statesmen of the English Nonconformist They fervently 
expected, at the death of Elizabeth, that the Scottish James !• 
would prove such a ruler. The Nonconformists, from the 
accession of James until the time of their fierce politico- 
ecclesiastical sermons before the Long Parliament and the 
meeting of their Westminster Assembly of Divines, were 
never for a moment Liberationists. Their phrase * setting up 
Christ on His Throne,* was a synonym for regal or parliamen- 
tary interference with the Church's doctrine and discipline ; 
for State enforcement of the Nonconformist, Presbyterian, or 
semi-Presbyterian, system upon the English nation and 
parishes ; for State suppression or modification of the his- 
torical Catholic and Episcopal system ; and for State pro- 
hibition of Dissent or Separation. The Scottish army was 
called into England by the Parliamentary leaders to help them 
in asserting English liberty against the wilful autocracy of 

* See the exiled J. Paget's Defence of Church Govertiment in Presby- 
terial. Classical, and Synodal Assemblies^ according to the practice of the 
Reformed Churches, published after his death by T. Paget, and dedicated 
to the Parliament in 1641. 4to. pp. xviii, 104, 105. The Parliament is 
told that ' the Scots, French, Dutch, &c.,' supply the model which ought 
to be enforced upon England. The earlier Nonconformist, Parker, 
proved by ten arguments that * the Church of England is bound to imitate 
the Reformed Churches in their discipline.* De Polit, Eccles. lib, i. c. 29^ 
p. 84. 

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1882. Not N'onconformists, dut Dissenters. 185 

Charles I.^ But their accidental allies, the Nonconformists, 
as Robert Bailie's letters plainly enough show, regarded the 
Scots as the armed champions of a Calvinist doctrine and 
an anti-episcopal discipline, and as the heaven-sent agents 
for forcing the Nonconformist system upon the unwilling Eng- 
lish parishes.* The secular power of the Nonconformists 
was gfreatly broken by the ascendency of Oliver Cromwell 
and the English army. His total defeat of the Presby- 
terian Scots, and the subsequent toleration of the hated 
Independents and other Separatists, was a severe blow to 
the Nonconformists, properly so called. Dissent or Separa- 
tion may be said to have been established concurrently with 
Nonconformity by the swords and guns of the army. Dr. 
Stoughton virtually grants this when he says that * the bark 
of Coi^egationalism ' was ' cut adrift from its State-mooring 
upon the fall of Cromwell's Broad Church ' — ^which, as a matter 
of fact, was the narrowest and most exclusive * Church ' which 

* * Of those who joined with the Parliament,' wrote R. Baillie to 
Spang, December 27, 1644, 'the greatest and most countenanced part 
were much Episcopsd.' *The learnedest and most considerable part' (of 
the English dergy), he adds later, ' were fully Episcopal.' 

^ Richard Kentish, preaching before the House of Commons, November 
24, 1647, complained that the English people, ' Uke Israel of old, preferred 
the garlick and onions of Egypt before the milk and honey of Canaan. So 
now a prelatical priest, with a superstitious service-book, is more desired, 
and would be better welcome to the generality of England, than the most 
learned, laborious, conscientious preacher, whether Presbyterian or Inde- 
pendent' 'These poor simple creatures are mad after superstitious 
festivals, after unholy holidays.' He adds later that the rooted anti- 
Puritanism of the English would be * tolerable ' if it were confined to one 
class, * the generality of England, if it were only among the riff-raff oi the 
people.' At the Restoration, Kentish was ejected from S. Catharine's in 
the Tower. R. Baxter, in his Ke/ormed Pastor (i 656, p. 288), bears witness 
to the same fact * The common people,' he says, * tell us we bring up 
new customs.' Not kneeling at the Eucharist is specified. The famous 
Independent, Dr. John Owen, makes frequent complaint of the rooted 
antipathy of the people towards the Nonconformist and Separatist systems 
forced upon them by the secular arm. In his sermon before the Parlia- 
ment of the Commonwealth, October 30, 1656, he says, *The body of the 
people is dark, and profane, and full of enmity against the remnant.' *The 
profane multitude,' he tells the Parliament, are so attached to ' the old 
paths, that it is yet impossible to keep the burden upright in them, whose 
guidance you are entrusted with.' * Nothing almost will satisfy them but 
their old road of beggarly readers in every parish.' Works, 1825, vol. xv. 
PP- 5^7? 574» 57^- Jol^n Canne, in his Second Voice from the Temple 
(1653, 4to), complained that * though tithes be taken away,' and given to 
the Independent and Presbyterian, *yet will the people do as they have 
done, go to these (sequestered) Priests for marr}'ing, burying, christenings, 
churchings, &c.' The Anabaptist zealot urged the Parliament * by public 
authority to declare that this (Anglican) ministry is held no longer true 
and lawful' (pp. 8, 11). 

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1 86 Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. April 

was ever established in Europe.^ The battle of Worcester 
was regarded by the English Nonconformists as a defeat of 
Presbyterian Nonconformity, and as a victory of Independent 
and Anabaptist Separatism. Presbyterian and anti-Separa- 
tist Scotland became fervidly royalist, and English Noncon- 
formists plotted for the restoration of the monarchy, hoping 
that a Presbyterian, Covenanting, or Nonconformist king — as 
they took Charles II. to be — would help them to put down 
their foes the Separatists, Sectaries, or Dissenters.^ Upon the 
restoration of the Episcopate, and the restoration of the sacra- 
mental rights of the whole Christian People, in 1660, after 
nearly twenty years of State-imposed Puritan and Separatist 
tyranny over the parishes, almost all the Nonconformists 
were ready to accept, while many of them would have pre- 
ferred, a modified Episcopal system. The Presbyterian ideal 
had become utterly discredited and detested in England. 
The Act of Uniformity, against which no national or popular 
protest was raised, remains as the immediate legislative expres- 
sion, while the adjective 'puritanical ' remains as the permanent 
popular expression, of the profound disgust of that generation. 
Its intolerance was the intolerance of those who had escaped 
from tyranny and illusion. No one in England dared to assert 
for Presbyterianism a jure divino claim. From the time of 
Elizabeth to the time of Cromwell, the Puritans or Noncon- 
formists had aimed at supremacy in the National Church. 
They obtained it, by the help of the Parliament and the 
Scottish army, partially and for a short space after the expul- 
sion of the bishops and the disestablishment of the old Catholic 
organization of the National Church. But under Cromwell's 
rule they were compelled by the secular arm, which they had 
invoked against the bishops and the Conformists, to make room 
for the Independent and Baptist Separatists at their side. 
At the close of the struggle by the Act of Uniformity, they 
asked only for * comprehension ' within the National Church. 
Thus the Nonconformist ministers, in their first ' Address 
and Proposals* to Charles II., in 1660, stated expressly : * We 
do not nor ever did renounce the true ancient primitive 
Episcopacy or presidency, as it was balanced and managed by 
a due commixtion of presbyters therewith.' They told the 
king that if by his * grave wisdom and generous moderation ^ 
such an * attempered Presidency ' should be constituted, they 

* Church of the Restoration^ ii. 164. 

2 Cf. J. Hunter's Life of O. Heywood. NeaPs History of Puritans^ 
"^11^, iv. 53, 54, 82, 86, 87. 

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1 882. Not Nonconforfuists, but Dissenters. 187 

would * humbly submit thereto.' * Later, in their ' Defence 
of our Proposals ' — a reply to the answer of the bishops to 
their original address — the Nonconformists said that they had 
made their proposals in order * that all the world might see 
that it is Episcopacy itself that we plead for.' They further 
reminded the prelates that * This primitive Episcopacy was 
the expedient which those ^:a^<rf" Presbyterians" offered, never 
once speaking for the cause of Presbytery.' Again, *We 
pleaded not with them at all for Presbytery, unless a mode- 
rate Episcopacy be Presbytery.' They even added : * Archi- 
episcopacy is acknowledged ; and we shall also desire that it 
may be observed, that we never put in a word to them against 
archbishops, metropolitans, or primates.' ^ 

The ejected Nonconformists, after 1662, steadily main- 
tained that they were not Dissenters— like the Presbyterian, 
Independent, and Baptist Separatists. Their most eminent 
representative, Richard Baxter, as late as the Declaration of 
Indulgence in 1672, when the three Separatist denominations 
{or the ' Three Persuasions ' as they were then called) took 
out licences for their preaching-houses, refused to take a licence 
for preaching in which he was described as belonging to * the 
Presbyterian Persuasion.' He declared that he was ' a Non- 
conformist.' He deliberately chose this historical word in 
order to express as clearly as he could that he was not a 
Separatist or Dissenter.^ The saintly Nonconformist, Philip 
Henry, was equally positive, as his son tells us, that he had 
not become a Dissenter by continuing to be a Nonconformist, 
but that his nonconformity was a protest against separation or 
dissent. ' His moderation in his nonconformity I says Matthew 
Henry, * had a great influence upon many, to keep them from 
running into an uncharitable and schismatical separation^ 
which upon all occasions he bore his testimony against. In 
Church government, he desired and wished for Archbishop 
Usher's reduction of Episcopacy.' He had received a Presby- 
terian ordination during the State's suppression of the Episco- 
pate, and could not bring himself to be re-ordained, even 
conditionally, because he believed the orders which he already 
had to be valid. He regarded the bishop, according to the 
older Nonconformist tradition, simply as the presiding pres- 
byter, holding the Episcopate to be an office, but not an order. 
He was 'greatly clamoured at by some of the rigid Separatists,* 
says his son, * and called a Dissembler (a weak pun on " Dis- 

* ReliquicB BaxtericuicB, 232-234. Vol. i. fol. 1696. 

* Ibid. 252-253. 

3 J. Hunter. Ufe ofO, Heywood, 225, 226. 

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1 88 Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. April 

senter "), and one that halted between two, and the like/ * By 
retaining this attitude Baxter and Henry were faithful to the 
traditions of the earlier Nonconformists, who frequently spoke 
of themselves as the party of the centre, and as holding the 
right via media position betwixt the Conformists and the 
Separatists, or betwixt 'Popish tyranny and Independent 
anarchy,' or betwixt 'Episcopacy and Popular Confusion.'* 
Anyone who will take the pains to search through the 
memoirs of the * Two Thousand ' ejected Nonconformists and 
Separatists, in Calamy and Palmer, will find plentiful evidence 
of the anxiety of the Nonconformists to maintain the posi- 
tion that they were anti-Separatists, anti-Sectaries, or anti- 

It has been forgotten by all the historians and controver- 
sialists that an important minority of the ejected 'Two 
Thousand ' were not Nonconformists, but were already pro- 
fessed Separatists. Several Independent and Baptist preachers 
had been thrust into parochial cures by the patrons, and 
approved by the Triers. These ' Confessors ' scorned the very 
conception of a visible National Church, or of a visible 
Parochial Church : yet each of them managed to find some 
casuistical absolution for his conscience while he was drawing 
the pay of a national and parochial pastor.^ The autobio- 

^ Ufe and Death of Mr. P. Henry y 4th ed., 1765, pp. 1 19-122, 130. 
Zachary Crofton, who was imprisoned for Nonconformity, published his 
Presbyter^ s Reordhtation by Bishops, It was a letter * resolving the case of 
Conscience — whether a minister ordained by presbyters may with a good 
conscience be reordained by a bishop?' 4to, Lond. 1660. 

^ G. GifFord, 1 590. A Plain Declaration that our Brownists be full 
Donatists, Cf. the controversial pamphleteering between the Presby- 
terians and the Independent * Five Brethren ' in 1643 and 1644. The^ 
Reformation of Church Government in Scotland, by the Scotch Commis- 
sioners in London, 1644. Canne's Necessity, cxx, 74, B, Hanbury. His^ 
torical Memorials relating to the Independents, 1839, i. 50, ii. 228, 229. 

* They formed sects of their own party within the parishes, and con- 
sidered these sects to be their Churches. George Fox tells us that the 
famous Baptist, John Tombes (who was one of the hyper-episcopal Triers, 
and was ejected from the vicarage of Leominster), 'was an Anabaptist 
preacher, and yet had a parsonage at Lemster. He said he had a wife, 
and he had a concubine ; and his wife was the baptized people (Baptists), 
and his concubine was the world ' (Churchmen, Presbyterians, Quakers, 
and all non-Baptist parishioners). A Quaker accused Tombes of having 
* sued him for tithe-eggs, and other Friends for other tithes.* This was in 
1657. Fox's Journal, 253, second paging. Wall, in his History of Infant 
Baptism, pays a high tribute to the scholarship of Tombes. In his 
Apology for the Two Treatises on Infant Baptism (4to, 1646, p. 66), 
Tombes had said that his sect ' must needs say the Churches that have 
no other than Infant Baptism are no true Churches, nor their members 
Church members.' 

Digitized by 


1882. Not Nonconformists y but Dissenters. 189 

graphical literature of the early Quakers is full of indignant 
references to the Independent and Baptist * priests ' who 
took tithes. The founder of Quakerism, during his missionary 
journey through the midland counties in 1655, found the 
Quakers cruelly ill-used by * the wicked priests, Presbyterians 
^nd^Independents. Great spoiling also was there of Friends* 
goods for tithes by the Independent and Presbyterian priests, 
and some Baptist priests that had gotten into the steeple- 
houses, as books of Friends* sufferings do at large declare.' * In 
liis epistle to 'Gathered Churches' (/>. Independents and 
Baptists), in the same year Fox wrote, * You are the devil's 
messengers, your fruits declare it — your taking tithes, augmen- 
tations, treble damages, midsummer dues, as ye call them, of 
them ye do no work for, nor minister to.* It is due to the 
honest Anabaptist, John Canne, to say that he protested 
against this taking of tithes by his fellow Separatists.^ A 
manuscript account of the rise of Quakerism states that 

* when the Presbyterians and Independents got into the Common- 
prayer parsonages, then they made fearful havock of us by spoyling 
our goods, and casting us into prison because we declared against 
their tithes. It can hardly be declared the cmel havock and spoyle 
the Presbyterians and Independents made. Their priests made poor 
people come up two hundred miles because they would not give 
fourpence for a hemp lock. They took the cow that gave them milk, 
their corne to make them bread, and the very beds they ley on, their 
cloathes and their children's cloathes, their oxen and horses they 
should plow withall, and their kettles, pots, and spoons, that they 
had not a pott to boyle their victuals with.' * 

The renowned mystic, William Dell, who was ejected from 

1 p. i66, 

* In his Second Voice from the Temple to the Higher Powers (4to, 
1653, p. 19), he wrote : * To pay tithes to a National Ministry is to serve 
Antichrist. I observe that the Independents and Presbyterians do appear 
most for tithes. Heretofore, when some such men were not in a capacity 
to take tithes, by reason of subscription and nonconformity, they were 
against the thing, and held it superstitious and Judaical, as a learned 
Imight reports. But the power of the prelates being since broken, their 
opinion now seems to be otherwise. Their practice, I am sure, speaks it 
so. Yet the truth is, neither of them, Presbyterian nor Independent, by 
the law of the land have any title to it' (pp. 10, 11). He adds, that 

. Taylor, Hammond, Guaden and * other service-readers of the old Popish 
way, as true to their principles, may pretend something to tithes ' (p. 12). 

* How the Lord by His Power and Spirit did raise up Friends. The 
late Mr. Barclay, the Quaker historian, who cites this passage, observes 
that the beneficed Separatists ejected in 1660 and 1662 were quite as bad 
as the beneficed Nonconformists. * The Independents and Baptists, who 
took the places of the Common-prayer men and accepted State pay, did 
not manifest a whit better spirit t;^an the Presbyterians.' The Inner Life 
of the Religious Societies of the Commonw ealthy 3rd ed., 1879, PP«27o, 271. 

Digitized by 


190 Not Nonconformists y but Dissenters. April 

the benefice of Yeldon, in Bedfordshire, and from the Master- 
ship of Caius College, Cambridge, was a zealous opponent of 
the Presbyterian schemes of the Nonconformist. The Baptist 
and Quaker Separatists have both claimed him as their own» 
The Baptist historian says that ' Dell protested against making 
a whole kingdom a Church.' ^ Thomas Brooks, ejected from 
S. Mary Magdalen, Fish Street, in the City of London, was 
not a Nonconformist, but a Separatist. On his appointment 
as rector, in 165 1, he tyrannically excommunicated the 
majority of the parish, and formed the minority into an inde- 
pendent sect. His high-handed proceeding brought him into 
conflict with the indignant parish, and with the beneficed 
Presbyterian ministers in the city.* Francis Holcroft, bene- 
ficed at Bassingbourn, was not a Nonconformist but a Dis- 
senter. He * fell in with the Congregational judgement, and 
became very zealous for it, so that he formed a Church upon 
that plan.' Though he held the parsonage and stipend of a 
parochial pastor, *he was very much against holding Church 
communion with the parish churches. After the ejectment, 
Mr. Holcroft considered himself as being still pastor of his 
flock.' ^ Samuel Eaton, who was ejected from the living of 
Dukenfield, in Lancashire, was an Independent Separatist* 
Cudworth, the Independent, who was ejected from Beeston, 
had attempted to force Independency upon the parish of 
Coley. The people would not have it, * so he did nothing, and 
was forced to go away.' ® Samuel Lee, who was ejected from 
S. Botolph, Bishopsgate, was an Independent, and after his 
ejection became minister of an Independent congregation at 
Newington Green, and later at Bristol in New England.® 
Paul Hobson, who was ejected from the chaplaincy of Eton 
College, was a Baptist Dissenter, and hence not a Noncon- 
formist but a Separatist. He is supposed to have been an 
officer in the army, and Robinson mentions some scandalous 
indecencies committed by his soldiers in derision of infant 
baptism.^ George Griffith, who was ejected from the Charter- 
house, and a lectureship at S. Bartholomew's near the Royal 

^ T. Crosby, History of the English Baptists^ i. 332. 
^ Palmer, i. 150-153. Dell and Brooks had been select preachers to 
the Parliament. * Palmer, i. 259, 260. 

* Palmer, ii. 361. Hunter {IJfe ofO, Heywood, 64) says that he had 
fled to New England before the Civil War, returned to England when the 
war broke out, like others of the sect, and originated Independency in 

* Hunter, 84, 85. Palmer, iii. 423. « Palmer, i. 104-106. 

' Robinson, History of Baptisniy 41. Crosby, History of the English 
Baptists^ i. 226, iii. 26. Palmer, i. 300. 

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1 882. Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. 191 

Exchange, was not a Nonconformist, but * an Independent in 
principle/ ^ Baxter mentions him as one of those Indepen- 
dents who after the Fire of London ' set up their meetings 
more openly.* Henry Jessey, who was ejected from the 
rectory of S. George's, Southwark, was a Baptist of consider- 
able repute. Joseph Caryl, the ejected rector of S. Magnus, 
London Bridge, was an Independent. He had been one of 
the Triers. After his ejection, in 1662, he gathered a congre- 
gation in the neighbourhood of S. Magnus.^ William Bartlet, 
ejected, in 1660, from the rectory of Bideford (to which the 
sequestered rector Gifford returned), is mildly described in 
Palmer's hagiology (ii. 5) * as Congregational in his judgement.'' 
Yet, in 1647, while holding a benefice in Wapping,he wrote a 
long treatise in which he attacked the theory of a National 
Church, and denied that * the Church of England,' in which he 
held quasi-office and real pay, ' was a true Church for matter or 
form. How vain a thing it is,' he says, * to expect a right 
gospel reformation in matters of visible worship throughout 
the kingdom, so long as the saints and servants of Jesus 
Christ, scattered up and down the kingdom, remain under a 
false, visible. National Church state.' ^ Ralph Venning, who 
was ejected from S. Olave, Southwark, was an Independent. 
Philip Nye, who had been one of the famous phalanx of 
* the Dissenting Brethren,' in the Assembly of Divines, was 
ejected from the rectory of S. Bartholomew's near the 
Exchange, and after his ejection * preached to a congrega- 
tion of Dissenters.' John Rowe, ejected from Westminster 
Abbey, was an Independent; he had *a congregation 
gathered there, of whom many were members of Parliament 
and persons of quality.' After *the return of the ejected 
choristers to the Abbey, and of organs,' he moved with his 
wealthy Congregational sect to Bartholomew Close.^ 

An attempt has been made by modem Separatists to 
represent these Independent and Baptist intruders into 
rectories and vicarages as exceptional in their violation of 
their own Separatist principle. We are asked to bear in mind 
that * a very large section of the Independents and Baptists 
entirely repudiated State-maintenance.'^ It is awkward 

^ Palmer, i, 107. ^ Palmer, i. 144-148. 

^ A Model of the Primitive Church Way, 4to, 1647, p. 144. 

* Palmer, i. 180. It was a frequent complaint of the Nonconformist 
Presbyterians that the Independent Separatists courted the wealthy and 

* R. Barclay. The Inner Life, 205. A contemporary Quaker in 1660 
stated the very opposite. John Braithwaite said that * Babylon's cup of 
forced maintenance' by tithes and parochial benefices had 'not only 

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192 Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. April 

that the exceptional section should include nearly all the 
eminent names in the contemporary annals of dissent It is 
awkward that those Independents and Baptists for whom a 
share in the glories of Nonconformist confessorship is claimed, 
should have been exactly the men who were faithless to their 
own principles, as Separatists from the Church of the nation 
and the churches of the parishes. We have been at the pains 
to trace out the history of each of the twenty-five Independent 
preachers of the City of London, who, between the ejections of 
1660 and the ejections of 1662, signed the address to Charles 
IL, disowning the principles of the Fifth-Monarchy-Men, and 
•expressing their loyal indignation at Venner's mad plot.^ We 
have found that all these Congregationalist preachers, except 
three, although they were professedly Separatists from the paro- 
chial churches, were in possession of benefices of the National 
Church as quasi-pastors of the parishes.* We have already 
given the names of someof these casuistical hybrid^ who were at 
the same time pastors of Congregationalist sects, and * priests,* 
as the Quakers reminded them, of parishes of a National 
Church. We find that George Cockayn, the eleventh of the 
signatories of this Congregational Union address to the king, 
nvas Rector of S. Pancras, Soper Lane. The nineteenth, 
Matthew Barker, was Rector of S. Leonard's, Eastcheap. The 
twentieth, Thomas Mallery, or Malory, was Incumbent of 
•S. Nicholas, Deptford, and lecturer of S. Michael's, Crooked 
Lane ; while the twenty-fourth on the list, Nathaniel Mather^ 
was the non-resident Vicar of Barnstaple.^ Dr. Stoughton, 

•enticed the Presbyterians and Independents, but the Baptists also have 
. l)een partakers thereof.' * It is but a small remnant,' he adds, * that have 
escaped drinking of this cup of abomination.* The Ministers of England 
-weighed in the Balance of Equity (4to, 1660, pp. 11, 12). 

^ Renunciation and Declaration of the Congregational ChurcJies and 
^-Preachers, January 1660-61. Cf. Neal, History of the PuritanSy iv. 

^ Thomas Coleman, of S. Peter's, Cornhill, one of the small Erastian 
party in the Westminster Assembly, pointed out to the House of Com- 
Tmons, as early as July 1645, that the Independents and other Separatists, 
. in large numbers, were appropriating parochial endowments. < Few of 
those men that have gathered congregations, but do take the revenue of 
■one or more lectures besides, and this they do from them whom they own 
not as their flock. This they must needs do out of covetousness, or out of 
need.' Hopes Deferred and Dashed^ 4to, 1645, P« 27. He adds, ^ Under 
this notion of Independency, weavers and tailors may become pastors. 
Thousands in London can witness how many tradesmen have left their 
trades, and gathered churches. It becomes the refuge of men that faiL* 

* He had been presented to the living by Oliver Crom well This 
absentee published an apologetic work with the characteristic title, A 
Discussion of the Lawfultuss of a Pastor's Officiating in Other Churches^ 

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^884. Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. 193 

the Independent historian, seems to have been startled by 
the unexpected discovery that the only ejected ministers 
in whom his own sect can claim any share were not Noncon- 
formists, but Separatists, and that they were ejected from 
offices which they had no right to occupy, and the obligations 
of which they refused to fulfil. * Between Presby terianism 
and an Establishment (the idea of Nonconformity, and the 
idea of a National or of a Parochial Church) there are strong 
affinities, but there are insuperable difficulties connected with 
the maintenance of Congregationalist order in a parish.' The 
Independents of New England solved these difficulties by 
•employing the secular sword and whip to enforce their own 
ecclesiastical decrees. The Independents and Anabaptists of 
■old England, in the seventeenth century, solved these diffi- - 
•culties by Puritanical casuistry. As Dr. Stoughton himself 
naively adds, with a tinge of the ancient Separatist casuistry, 
'^ The only real kind of Congregational Church formed by any 
^Independent or Anabaptist) incumbent under the common- 
wealth had to be practically severed from the legal position 
which he held as a parochial clergyman.* ^ A Quaker adver- 
-sary brought this against them as a charge, and no apology. 
' The parishes, say they, are no Churches of Christ, but heaps 
•of confusion and anti-Christian assemblies — with which their 
petty pamphlets are stuffed full, as were the writings of their 
predecessors formerly. Now let us see how true they are to 
their own principles.* The Quaker sees them 'frequently 
heading in worship the aforesaid people, getting up into their 
pulpits and places of oratory, carrying on their worship with 
them and for them. Yea, some of their elders become fixed 
teachers to these assemblies, one while serving that which 
they call the Church of God, and then by^and-by serving 
that which they call the world or an harlot. Did the 
Apostles, or any that were of the primitive Churches, enter 
into the idol's temple when the idolaters were at worship, 
and there officiate and carry on their worship for them, under 
a specious pretence of converting of them 1 ' ^ The great mass 
of the English people, as so many parochial records bear 
witness, fretted under the cruel autocracy of these State-made 
pastors, and anyone who has made an honest study of the 
social history of that epoch will understand the almost frantic 
joy of the English parishes on the day of their liberation, 
when the font was once again freely opened for every child 

* The Church of the Restoration, ii. 164. 

^ A Brief JSurvey or Inquiry made into some Particular Proceedings 
ofthe Congregational Churches (Giles Calvert, 4to, 1653, pp. 18, 19). 

Digitized by 


J 94 N^^ Nonconformists^ but Dissenters. April 

born in thie land, and when every Englishman was again told 
that he had a right to become Christ's Churchman. The 
JV.ct of Uniformity pressed most cruelly upon the Noncon- 
formists. The unwise and brutal course of legislation and 
policy which followed it pressed most cruelly upon both Non- 
conformists and Separatists,^ and converted Nonconformists 
and their children into Separatists.* But it must never be 
forgotten that the great majority of the English people — the 
English Church and the English State in the widest possible 
sense of these words — raised no protest against the Act of 
Uniformity, but welcomed it as an Act of Liberation of the 
Church from that State-control to which it had been subjected 
by the Long Parliament, the army, and the Protector. 

The Independent and Baptist preachers, who were found 
in occupation of parochial cures at the restoration of the old 
Catholic organization, formed only a minority of the ejected 
'confessors' of 1660 and 1662. They had no right, on their 
own principles, to such a title. The great majority of the 
* Two Thousand ' were beyond all doubt Nonconformists, and 
not Separatists. They regarded themselves as National 
Churchmen, not as Dissenters. A very considerable number 
of these, as Calamy himself grants, after a longer or shorter 
trial of Nonconformity, conformed. * There were several of 
the London ministers who at first left their livings, but after- 
wards conformed.' ^ These penitents were not the least pious 
or learned amongst the * Two Thousand.' We may instance 
Dr. John Conant, who had been a noted Puritan or Noncon- 
formist before the Civil War, and who had sat in the West- 
minster Assembly of Divines.^ In the Nonconformists* 
Memorial an imperfect list is given of those who conformed 
in each county. We find thirteen in Lancashire, sixteen in 
Yorkshire, nine in Cornwall, seven in Berkshire, eight in 
Cheshire, six in Derbyshire, twelve in Suffolk, and ten in 
Nottinghamshire — more than eighty in eight counties. Yet 
every one of these deliberate Conformists, as well as every 
anti-Separatist Nonconformist, is appropriated by the modem 
Separatist of the Congregational Union as a spiritual 
ancestor; each receives a two-thousandth portion of the 
eccentric saint-worship, which is offered in the Bicentenary 

^ The persecution of the Nonconformists and Separatists was mainly 
due, as George Fox thought, to the genuine panic which the rising of the 
Fifth Monarchy Men produced, not only in the Court and among the 
bishops, but throughout the whole ' city and nation.' youmaly 229, 230* 

* Palmer, i. 195. 

' Biographia BriLy art. * Conant,' iii. pp. 1433- 1438. The MS. Life 
by Dr. Conant's son has since been printed. 

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i882. Not Nonconformists y but Dissenters. 195 

Hall and on the Liberationist platform ; each is subsidized for 
political agitation against the Church of England. 

Ejected Nonconformists, as distinct from the ejected 
Separatists, continued to uphold the traditional Puritan witness 
against Dissent or Separatism by their strict attendance at 
their parish churches, and by their regular participation in 
the parochial Eucharist Although we have already illus- 
trated their standpoint by citing Baxter and Philip Henry 
as witnesses, it will be in place here to cite a few less 
known fellow-witnesses. Zachary Crofton was ejected from 
S. Botolph, Aldgate. But although he was cruelly persecuted 
and even imprisoned for his nonconformity, he steadily refused 
to turn a Dissenter. Even while he was in gaol this con- 
sistent Nonconformist wrote a pamphlet against Dissent.* 
When he was at liberty he attended the public worship of the 
Church, 'though he himself, as a minister, could not use 
the Common Prayer or the Ceremonies.' * Peter Vincke, who 
was ejected from S. Michael's, Cornhill, took his stand upon 
the via media theory of the old Nonconformists. He kept 
up communion with the Church, 'whereupon, as he sometime 
observed, he incurred the anger of some that he went so far ; 
and of others that he went no farther.' ^ Thomas Gouge, who 
was ejected from S. Sepulchre's, at once forebore jpreaching 
as well as ministering. The Welsh bishops, learning that he 
was in priest's orders, licensed him to preach in Wales. He 
regularly communicated at the parish churches, but remained 
a Nonconformist, refusing to celebrate the Eucharist, wear 
the surplice, or conform ministerially to the Book of Common 
Prayer.* John Ray, the famous naturalist, who had been 
Episcopally ordained, was a true Nonconformist. He 
regularly communicated at church, but would not minister. 
It is curious that Palmer — who is usually confused and 

^ Reformation not Separation, or a Plea for Communion with the 
Chttrch under those corruptions to which he camwt conform, &c., 4to, 1660. 
It called forth a controversy, to which Crofton replied in his Jerubaal 
Justified, 4to, 1663. 

* * My resolution is to attend these corrupt administrations and that 
disorderly service of God* (p. 3). * At present I have no choice. If I will 
attend God's solemn public worship I must do it in this place and order, . 
or not at air (p. 6). * Their Common Prayer is my burden, by reason of its 
defects and disorder; yet I find in it no matter to which a sober, serious 
Christian may not say Amen ' (p. 24). * It is nauseous, but not venomous ; 
puddled, but not poisonous' (p. 24). * We are without a sufficient ground 
for Separation' (p. 26). He calls himself 'an Anti-Sectarian' like ^ the 
old Nonconformists who repelled and reproved the brainsick Brownists.^ 

* Palmer, i. 166. 

* Abp. Tillotson preached his funeral sermon. 

Digitized by 


196 Not Nonconformists^ but Dissenters. April 

unscientific in his nomenclature — when he is attempting to 
orientate Ray's position, stumbles as if by accident upon the 
true distinction, which is so rare in Dissenting literature. 
* Strictly and properly speaking/ he observes, ' Ray was a 
Nonconformist, and not a Dissenter' * Orme, the Dissenting 
biographer, had a glimpse of only one aspect of the true dis- 
tinction when he said that * the Brownists, as they have been 
nicknamed, were treated with great severity both by Church- 
men and Nonconformists ; they were the first consistent 
Dissenters from the Church of England/ * But by his unin- 
quiring acceptance of the modem Dissenting assumption that 
the Nonconformists were not 'Churchmen/ and by his 
consequent qualification of the Separatists as ^consistent 
Dissenters,' he shows that he was blind to anotlier aspect of the 
distinction.* The dissent of the Nonconformists or Presby- 
terians, to use their own scholastic phraseology, was merely 
'formal,' and left them free to keep within the National 
Church ; whereas the dissent of the Separatists, Independents, 
Baptists, or Quakers was * material,' and so compelled them to 
go outside the Church. We detect a similar mixture of per- 
ception and confusion in Mr, Barclay's attempt to orientate 
the nomenclature of ecclesiastical controversy. He rightly 
says that ' it is of the utmost importance to have a clear view 
of the origin and the distinct character of the religious opinions 
of the persons who are termed Puritans (he should add, or 
Nonconformists), * and to distinguish them from those of the 
people called Separatists, BrownistSy Barrowists, and after- 
wards Independents and Congregationalists, and those again 
who are termed Anabaptists or Baptists' He tells us that 
throughout his own volume * the word Puritan is used in its 
original meaning, viz. of a person who desired the reform of the 
Church of England in a Presbyterian sense. The application 
of the word (since the ejection of the 2,000 Puritan ministers 
from the Established Church in 1662) to any Nonconformist 
has led to serious misconception.' * He ought to have said * to 
any Separatist/ We need hardly say that not a single Non- 
conformist among the * two thousand ' ever believed that he 
was ejected from 3ie Established Church, while several of them, 
on Mr. Barclay's showing, had no right whatever to the title of 

* I. 274. The italics are his own. 

* Memoirs of J. Owen, D,D,, 1820, p. 60. 

' He is more clear on p. 6. ' The great mass of the early Puritans, 
and even of the later Nonconformists, were not Dissenters from the 
Church's constitution, but Noficonformists to some of its requisitions.' 
The italics are Orme's own. 

* The Iirner Life, p. 1 1, 

Digitized by 


i882. Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. 197 

Puritans, as they were Independents and Baptists. His own 
treatment involves him in a mass of misconceptions, since it 
starts with the assumption that * the Established Church' was 
made by the Tudors, and was consequently not so old as 'the 
idea of a Church' which the Independents, Baptists, and 
Quakers * embodied.' He says elsewhere, ' From the period 
of the ejection of the 2,000 nonconforming ministers the terms 
Puritan, Dissenter, Nonconformist, were applied to all the 
Free Churches indiscriminately ; but these terms were totally 
inapplicable to the ancient Independent and Baptist Churches, 
and to the Society of Friends. They never had any connec- 
tion with the Church of England, and no modification of a 
Church connected with the State would have satisfied them : ' 
albeit — he should have added — the most eminent and famous 
of the Independents were beneficed as rectors, vicars, and 
lecturers of the English Church. * With the ejected Presby- 
terians as Puritans,' he rightly adds, * the case was different. 
They were constantly looking forward to the time when, by 
some shifting of the political parties, they would again be 
included in the State Church. They were prepared to meet 
the Anglican party half way. In some Presbyterian societies 
this was actually contemplated in the trust-deeds of their 
chapels.' * 

Writers upon the Anglican side have been equally careless 
and unscientific in their nomenclature. Thus the late Mr. 
Lathbury, knowing that the Presbyterians of his own age 
were Dissenters or Separatists, applied the latter term indis- 
criminately to the Puritans or Nonconformists of the sixteenth 
and seventeenth centuries. * Cartwright, the Lady Margaret 
professor at Cambridge,' he says, * was one of the chief leaders 
of the Separatists.' ^ The exact reverse was true. Thomas 
Cartwright, the greatest of the Nonconformists, was the chief 
opponent of the Separatists. ^ * Though Cartwright was pre- 
viously a strong Presbyterian,' says Mr. Lathbury, * he died 
in the bosom of the Church of England.' He never left the 
Church. * The grand design ' (of Cartwright and Travers), 
says T. Fuller, *was to set up a discipline in a discipline. 
Presbytery in Episcopacy ' (A.D. 1 5 84, p. 142). Every honoured 
Nonconformist teacher and confessor from the early Noncon- 

» P. 588. 

^ A History of the English Episcopacy, 1836, p. 47. He accuses Neal 
and Brooks of being *■ slipshod' in their use of the term Puritan, but his 
corrections are as bad as their faults. See pp. 54-56. 

* See what the Separatists said of T. Cartwright. Hanbury, Hist, Me 
morials of Independency, i. 35. Bp. Stillingfleet, Unreason of Separation^ 
3rd ed., 1682^ p. 28. 

Digitized by 


1 98 Not Nonconformists, but Dissenters. Aprir 

formist agitation for supremacy over the Church to the later 
Nonconformist demand for comprehension within the Church, 
protested against any degree of Separatism or actual Dissent. 
When Dr. Copcote, a Conformist opponent of Cartwright at 
Cambridge^ in his sermon at Paul's Cross, 1584, charged the 
Nonconformists with saying that * the Church of England was 
no Church but after a sort/ the Nonconformists retorted that 
this was a slander, and they could appeal to their antagonism 
against the Brownists and Anabaptists as a proof of their 
i:esolute Churchmanship. * We hold the Church of England/ 
they replied, *for a true Church, from which no man may 
separate himseliV ^ They doubtlessly held that the Common- 
Prayer-Book of the National Church contained a theology and 
a humanity which needed much reforming. They held that 
the Church's doctrinal form, as well as its disciplinary /<?r/i?, 
needed to be more emphatically Protestantized, Puritanized, 
Calvinized, narrowed. They regarded it as too catholic, too 
liberal, too widely national, too widely parochial — too ' Ar- 
minian.'^ But the English Nonconformists never held nor 
taught, at any point in their history, that the doctrinal and 
disciplinary faults in the Church, as they thought them, were 
sufficiently anti-Christian to justify separation from the 
National Church and the erection of a sect Thomas Fuller 
bore witness to the resolution with which two successive 
generations of Puritans or Nonconformists, in spite of perse- 
cution on one side and flattering invitations on the other side, 
would neither give up their Nonconformity nor their Church- 
manship. * The prime of the first set of Puritans, which, being 
very aged, expired for the most part about this time, when, 
behold, another generation of active and zealous Noncon- 
formists succeeded them, inveighing against the established 
Church-discipline, accounting everything from Rome which 
was not from Geneva, endeavouring in all things to conform 
tfie government of the English Church to the Presbyterian 
reformation ' — that is to say, not to set up a new and rival 
Church. As Heylin uncharitably put it, when speaking of 
the Separatists, * Their more cunning brethren (the Noncon- 
formists) kept within the pale of the Church.' ^ If a Puritan 
incumbent was imprisoned or deprived for nonconformity, for 
disobedience to his ordinary, for not wearing the surplice, for 

* A Defence of the Reasons of the Countet poison for the maintenance 
of the Eldership, against an Answer made by Dr. Copequot, 8vo, 1 586. n,p. 

* The Church History of Great Britain, Book IX., vol. iii. p. 81, fol. 

^ Hist. Presbyt., Book VIII., § 23. 

Digitized by 


1 882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 199 

inutilating the prescribed service, for autocratically imposing 
upon his parish a foreign Genevan ritual, for refusing to bap- 
tize a child because he held its parents not to be within the 
covenant of grace, or for any other plea — he never left the 
Church of. England; or, if he did, he was no longer counted 
a Nonconformist. By the act of schism he passed out of the 
regiment of the Nonconformists into the hostile army of the 
Separatists or Dissenters. A man ceased to be a Noncon- 
formist in the very moment in which he became a Separatist* 

Art. X.— position AND PROSPECTS OF 

1. Report of Sub-Comntittee of the Ctirates^ Alliance on Tenure 

and Status of the Unbeneficed Clergy. (London, 1882.) 

2. T/ie Church afui her Curates. (Gardner; London, 1877,) 

3. Reports of Citrates* Augmentation Fund. (London, 1867- 


The movement which has within the last few months at- 
tracted a considerable deal of notice, at all events in ecclesi- 
astical circles, and which, under the name of *The Curates' 
Alliance,' aims at promoting the more special interests of the 
unbeneficed parochial clergy, has, if not very successful in 
gaining general support, still done good service in calling the 
attention of churchmen to certain disadvantages and ano- 
malies in the position of the assistant curates, which, how- 
ever impossible, by any means hitherto suggested, to correct, 
still advance a claim, which cannot be made too prominent, 
upon the sympathy, the good will, and the considerate regard 
of all. The disadvantages they labour under, as compared to 
those who have passed from their ranks into independent 
posts in the Church, may be admitted by everyone, while the 
extent of these disadvantages, as experienced by the least 
fortunate in the way of promotion, may be appreciated by 
very few; and the discussing of the matter cannot fail to 
bear good fruit in some directions, if not in those immediately 

With these convictions, we are certainly not of those who 
regard the establishment of the Curates* Alliance as a sort 

Digitized by 


2CX> Position and Prospects of Curates. April 

of clerical trades-union, framed to organize the agitation of 
'servants* against 'employers' (we use the society's own 
terms) in ecclesiastical work. On the contrary, we welcome 
heartily the discussions on the subject, however we may regret 
their apparent barrenness of practical suggestion. Neither 
the curates nor the incumbents can be *wise at once' on any 
newly mooted subject, and all contributions to general thought 
on such a subject as this, with all possible intercommunication 
pf opinion, must be of value to the cause of true religion 
which both the parties concerned have really at heart. 

If, then, the proposals for reform which the Alliance has 
put forth, and which we are about to examine in some of the 
following pages, betray a certain lack of thought and juc^- 
ment, we must bear in mind that, from the nature of the case, 
the movement is the movement of young men, who put forth 
so much of the truth as is in them on these important topics, 
and who, in exercising their undoubted rights of free dis- 
cussion, may, though failing to convince us of the wisdom of 
their proposals, lay good claim to gratitude for giving ua 
much that is worth our while to think over and to lay to 

The newly formed society appointed a sub-committee:, 
from their number * to examine into the security of tenure 
and diocesan status of the unbeneficed clergy of the Estab- 
lished Church of England.' Their report, received and adopted 
by the Curates' Alliance, is now before us, containing a number 
of recommendations, prefaced by certain observations, which 
we will proceed to examine seriatim. 

Some of these are framed upon suggestions made by 
supporters of the Curates' Augmentation Fund, the work of 
which most valuable society we shall have an opportunity of 
referring to further on, in proposing, as we shall venture ta 
do, a new measure for remedying some of the evils com- 
plained of by the unbeneficed clergy, and, as we think, a 
more hopeful one than those which hitherto have been sug* 
gested by themselves. 

The ' observations ' with which the sub-committee of the 
Curates' Alliance introduce their proposals for reform touch 
indeed some very manifest difficulties, but show no true ap- 
preciation of the one characteristic impediment which lies 
immovably across any path whatever of reform such as the 
sub-committee advocates. They protest against * the beneficed 
clergy, with a life tenure of office, having almost autocratic 
power, while the unbeneficed are servants liable to capricious 
dismissal ; ' but they entirely leave out of view the fact that 

Digitized by 


i882* Position and Prospects of Curates. 201 

there is no compulsion whatever on the beneficed cleigy to 
employ curates at all, and that, in proportion as they limit 
the powers of the beneficed employers to suit themselves in 
the labour market, they limit the demand for the unbeneficed 
employed. This, so far as regards the manner of their treat- 
ment, which we greatly question cu a rule to be either auto- 
cratic or capricious. The committee also, with regard to 
the promotion of assistant curates, entirely leaves out of sight 
the important fact that the men who give titles for orders are 
entirely different men from those who have benefices to confer 
as supposed rewards of special merit. 

And in the same paragraph of the preliminary observa- 
tions we must also notice a remarkable assumption. It is 
couched in the following terms : * It cannot fail to act 
injuriously on the Church, when so large a body of ministers is 
compell^dto consider t/te will of tie incumbent • . . in preference 
to the goad of the parish to which they (the curates) are sent 
by the bishops, whose delegates they legally are' We beg to 
ask, * Who is responsible for the good of the parish in all its 
management ? ' The incumbent evidently, not the curate ; 
and the responsibility both to man and God is very grave 
and serious. No curate should (whether anyone try to 
compel him or no) consider the incumbent's will rather than 
the good of the parish ; sooner than submit to such com- 
pulsion the conscientious curate should resign any post what- 
soever. But, considering the unquestionable responsibility of 
the incumbent for all measures taken in his parish, whether 
by himself or his nominees, he must be regarded as a better 
judge of what is or is not for the good of the parish than the 
curate, who may dissent, indeed, from his opinion, but has no 
responsibility whatever. 

And the sentence we have quoted must be still further 
examined, and not allowed to pass unchallenged. To say 
that an assistant curate is sent to a parish by the bishop is 
certainly true in a canonical sense, but not exactly, or at alU 
in the sense the Committee of the Curates' Alliance ventures to 
assign to it. That * no man may take upon himself to minister 
in the congregation except he be sent thereto by those having 
authority for the purpose ' will be admitted by every one who 
has signed the XXIII. Article of Religion ; but no man is 
*sent' by the bishop, so far as ordination sends him, until 
some one else has found him place and function. The 
bishop's appointment is dependent on, and subject to, the 
incumbent's appointment. Nay more ; the bishop, if he 
would, has no power to * send ' any man to minister in any 

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202 Position and Prospects of Ctirates. April 

place without the nomination of the incumbent ; and if he 
have no such power, it is plainly an abuse of terms to imply, 
as this sentence does, that in opposing the * will of the incum- 
bent ' (without whom the bishop cannot * send ' at all) to the 
sanction of the bishop as ordainer merely, the curate has any 
episcopal authority, if he think fit, to oppose the action of the 

And there is no excuse to be found for this extraordinary 
suggestion in the fact that the sentence may have been drawn 
by an inexperienced hand, and the report have been adopted 
and sent in by the committee, and- accepted and published 
by the Alliance, without anyone noting, in a well-rounded 
sentence, the very questionable meaning of the words em- 
ployed. For there can be no excuse of oversight on anyone's 
behalf for the still stronger expression with which the para- 
graph ends, ' w/wse delegates they legally are' 

For these words mean, if they mean anything, that, as 
against the incumbent, the curate is a representative of the 
bishop. It argues a singular misapprehension of the whole 
subject to imagine such a thing possible. The bishop 
authorizes the curate to exercise, under certain conditions, a 
citrates functions ; but he m no respect whatever,' for that 
reason, transfers to the curate his own episcopal authority. 
He invests him with a function, but does not delegate his 
own, any more than a tailor who supplies a man with a coat 
authorizes his customer to draw cheques in his name by 
doing so. The. whole statement is a grave error in fact, 
in conception, and in expression, and cannot fail to do, as it 
has done, most serious injury to the cause, good in itself,, 
which the Alliance has taken in hand. 

Though we feel it part of our duty to point out the in- 
herent weakness of judgment, and indeed superficiality of 
thought, which have suggested and published these obser- 
vations, we are very far from denying that the position of 
stipendiary curates is in many points deserving of the heartiest 
sympathy, and of every conceivable amelioration, both as 
regards the present and the future. What We do take vigorous 
exception to is the too common assumption that persons or 
classes are to be blamed for these conditions, rather than the 
circumstances in which they are placed, and the plain nature 
of things. 

Nor should we find fault with an inconsiderate, or even a 
fanciful, exaggeration of statements, if made to attract more 
public attention to a really pressing subject, did any means 
suggested by the committee seem to hold out the faintest 

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<882: Position and Prospects of Curates. 203 

prospect of correcting the conditions of which complaint is 

We will briefly examine the ' practical suggestions ' offered, 
which would be well worthy of consideration and adoption if 
the adjective prefixed could be found applicable to the case. 

I, The first, indeed the, be-all and end-all of the matter, 
the cardinal condition on which the whole report hinges, 
seems to us so absolutely hopeless as to virtually conclude the 
whole matter. We are told that, as it is desirable that in no 
case curates should be paid by the incumbents, * it is of 
J>rimary importance that there should be created in each 
diocese a fund out of which the assistant clergy should be 
paid.' For this purpose, we are informed (Appendix I. to 
Report), that * in order to supply 5,000 assistant clergy with 
3tipends, beginning at 150/. per annum and gradually increas- 
ing to 250/. per annum, it will be necessary to create a fund 
of not less than one-seventh of the whole annual income of the 
Church of England. This is certainly not too large a propor- 
tion to expend upon the efficiency of the 5,000 additional 
clergy whom it has been found necessary to ordain.' Of 
course this is not too much to expend, but that is not the 
question which arises, and on which the whole suggestion 
depends ; namely, where is the money to come from, and who 
are the people likely to contribute it t An annual sum equal 
to a seventh of the whole income of the Church of England 
may be put roughly at 700,000/. Neither that amount nor 
anything like it can be reckoned upon from voluntary sources 
as an annual contribution. While, were it to take the form of 
an endowment, and were any security available that any en« 
dowment whatever would be suffered to exist for one single 
century, the raising of the sum required would imply a 
voluntary gift of something like fourteen millions of money ! 

It might be said that the sum now contributed for curates* 
stipends would be available ; but this could only apply to a 
comparatively small part of such funds. The Church Pastoral 
Aid Society and the Additional Curates Society together 
dispose of about 130,000/. a year, which possibly might, if a 
good administrative plan were adopted for its distribution, be 
counted on as a nucleus for the fund. But the incumbents, 
who contribute the mass of present stipends with a power of 
choosing their own fellow-workers, could never be expected 
{and if they were they would disappoint the expectation) to 
continue their contributions for the mere purpose of having 
practically irremovable curates placed in their parishes by the 
bishops. The result, even supposing such a plan were tried. 

Digitized by 


204 Position aitd Prospects of Curates. April 

would be curious. For every 'incompatible' unremoved an 
amount of money equal to his stipend would drop off from 
the fund, for no man would continue voluntarily to provide, in 
paying to any fund, the sinews of war which should support an 
opponent in his own parish ; and, these lapses from contribu- 
tion being for the most part final, the fund itself in course of 
time would disappear. 

And, apart from personal disagreements, doctrinal dis- 
agfreements would affect the fund in the same way, but with 
more rapid effect Every contributor to such a fund as is 
suggested who might ever be displeased or alarmed at innova- 
tions introduced and persisted in by curates * on the advance/ 
would take an early opportunity of terminating his subscrip- 
tion, and the fund again would fall to pieces. 

But we need not discuss these possibilities any further in 
the face of the antecedent hopelessness of getting together by 
voluntary means (since national means are out of the question} 
anything conceivably like the enormous sum which we are 
very candidly told it is of * primary importance ' to collect in- 
order to carry out the reforms suggested in the report. If 
the raising of the fund be of ' primary importance ' to the 
initiation of the reform, it is plain the reforms must wait till 
the fund be collected, and discussion meanwhile must be but 
waste of energy. 

Of course the committee who drew up the proposals of 
the Curates* Alliance may urge against the impossibility we 
assert of ' creating ' a fund to pay all the assistant clergy,^ that 
the sums now expended for that purpose by the beneficed 
clergy should be included. 

We have, however, shown that, so long as those sums are 
voluntarily provided by incumbents, there could be no security 
to-morrow for the fund depending on it, even were all pre- 
sent incumbents willing to fall in with it to-day. The only 
manner in which it could be conceivably raised and secured 
from them would be by compulsory contribution. 

And suppose they submitted to this ; its effect would 
simply be to divide large livings into a number of small 
endowments, and to leave livings of large extent but of small 
value, whose incomes could not be subdivided, without any 
assistant clergy at all. 

* The proposal says * in each diocese,' but the measure would have 
to be general, not local ; otherwise in a rich diocese too much might be 
contributed (though that, we think, rather improbable), while in a poor 
one the comparative smallness of the provision made might deprive the 
Church of any sufficiency of curates whatever. A national fund alone 
couldmeet the case. 

Digitized by 


i882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 205 

For the members of the Alliance, or of its committee, 
have left out of view one very important consideration, that a 
large number of extensive and laborious livings at the present 
time are held by men who spend their entire ecclesiastic in- 
comes, and often very much more, in supplying material pro- 
vision for the spiritual needs of their parishes. How many 
large parishes, nominally richly endowed, are declined over 
and over again by unbeneficed men, from the feeling that to 
undertake them on the clerical income alone,however nominally 
large, would result in diminution of spiritual provision for the 
people or in pecuniary disaster for the minister. 

If, therefore any compulsory method could be adopted of 
requiring all incumbents to supply to a Diocesan Board funds 
for paying the stipends either of all the assistant clergy now 
employed, or of all whom a bishop or Diocesan Committee 
might consider should be employed in each parish, it would 
be very soon found that a large number of present curates 
could not be supported at all, and the difficulties in the way 
of securing independent posts, or any posts whatever, by un- 
beneficed men would be multiplied instead of being diminished. 

For no compulsion could ever touch incumbents' private 
income ; and a very large proportion (very greatly more than 
is generally supposed) of the whole sum earned by unbeneficed 
men in England is derived from this voluntary and honour- 
able source. 

In this connection we offer the following striking figures. 
The admirable statistical calculations of the Rev, A. Mack- 
reth Deane, published by the Curates' Augmentation Fund 
in The Church and her Curates (a work now unfortunately out 
of print), give 687,000/. as the sum spent on stipends of 5,500 
unbeneficed men — an average of 125/. each. Of these the 
Church Pastoral Aid Society and the Additional Curates* 
Society, by their own funds and those which their grants elicit 
from others (many of whom are beneficed clergy), supply 
stipends for 1,225 curates, say 150,000/. a year, leaving 37,000/. 
to cover contributions towards the provision of curates* 
stipends by laymen, unconnected with the societies formed 
for the purpose (and this is a large margin, for in nearly every 
case they know their gift would be doubled by sending it 
through a society). It is not too much to say that all the 
rest of the money, 500,000/. a year, comes out of the pockets 
of the beneficed clergy by voluntary gift 

These figures must be quite conclusive in showing that, 
even were it universally granted that all the clerical incomes 
of beneficed men should be made chargeable to a Diocesan 

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2o6 Position and Prospects of Curates. April 

Curates' Fund, the vast amount spent voluntarily for curates' 
stipends by beneficed men out of private income could never 
be made chargeable to the extent of one single farthing. 

II. In turning to another point of reform proposed, the 
desirability of establishing Collegiate Churches, managed by 
a Provost and Fellows instead of a Rector and Curates, we 
feel again that we are being led at once beyond the bounds of 
the practical. For such an arrangement must imply three 
antecedent conditions, none of which is at the present time 
within measurable distance : namely, endowments to support 
the fellows ; irremovability ; and such an independence 
(resulting from irremovability) as must alter the whole paro- 
chial system. If the endowments, a first condition, be not 
available, the thing cannot be done. If they be available, 
the parish may even now be divided into districts, when the 
' Fellows ' will be incumbents, as irremovable and independent 
of the * Provost * as they can desire, and lifted out of the cate- 
gory of ' stipendiary curates ' altogether. 

Unless this be admitted to be a better plan than the 
other, the proposal would seem to tend towards giving all the 
advantage of independence to the Fellows, and leaving all 
the burden of responsibility to the Provost. 

For it will be noted that the * Fellowships ' under the 
* Provost ' are distinctly spoken of as * independent and 
desirable posts,' which last they certainly would be in terms' 
of the proposition. 

III. The proposal, again, of providing houses, partly 
furnished, for the curates is excellent in its way, but can 
only be carried out when endowments are provided from 
other than present sources ; since any other arrangement 
would simply be regarded by those asked to contribute to 
the building and furnishing fund, as a rate in aid to the 
incumbent to obtain a curate on cheaper terms than where he 
had to provide his own residence. 

On the other hand, once such houses were provided, the 
tendency of turning the * Curatage ' into a Vicarage, and the 
curacy into an Ecclesiastical district, would naturally operate 
just as the tendency towards separating districts does to-day; 
and with special force, as directly removing one of the com- 
plaints made by the Alliance of the difficulty experienced by 
curates in obtaining independent posts. 

IV. The suggestions with regard to changes in the power* 
of incumbents to dismiss curates are two in number. The 
first, that assistant curates should make themselves acquainted ■ 
with the existing law on the subject (which is a matter of' 

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1 882. Position and Prospects pf Curates, 207 

self-evident common sense), has been made very simple by 
the appending to the Report of clause 95 of the Act (i and 
2 Vict. cap. 106, sec. 95), which in a few words supplies the 
information. But when we come to examine it, we are rather 
at a loss to understand what more, under present conditions, 
short of permanent tenure, can be reasonably claimed than 
the law already gives. All assistant curates are appointed by 
incumbents ; none would be appointed at all if irremovable* 
No curate can be arbitrarily dismissed by the incumbent who 
appointed him with a shorter notice than six months ; and 
then the bishop may absolutely refuse to require his re- 
moval, if he see fit. Supposing the case of a rector suddenly 
losing all the private property out of which he had been 
paying the stipend of a curate, his clerical income would 
certainly be hable for six months' stipend to the curate; 
while, on the other hand, the curate, wishing to dismiss his^ 
rector, to change his sphere, or to take a living, is only 
bound to give three months' notice of his intention to leave. 

And this, though not at all stated as a grievance on the 
other side, is a point worthy of consideration, inasmuch as^ 
though the number of unemployed curates may be greater 
than most people have been in the habit of supposing, the 
difficulty of finding occupants for the* less eligible posts, and 
in the less sought-for dioceses, is often very great indeed ; 
and though a man be reminded that there are as good fish in 
the sea as ever were caught, he knows also by experience 
that he himself has no assurance of catching them. 

The second suggestion on this point is as follows, ' That 
in order to check vexatious and unreasonable dismissals, the 
curate should have the power of requiring the incumbent 
to state in writing, in the same terms in which he had stated 
them to the bishop, his reasons for terminating his curate's, 
engagement.' As a matter of simple candour and frankness^ 
we have not a word to say against this proposition ; but, as a 
practical measure, likely to lengthen by a single month any 
engagement which either party felt it desirable to terminate, 
it is inconceivable that it could have any appreciable effect. 
For misconduct, to the honour of our Christian ministry be it 
said, there is never much need to remove a man, and in the 
infinitesimal number of exceptional cases, he removes himself 
without notice at all. But in a profession where, more thani 
in any other, two cannot walk together unless they be agreed, 
very many reasons, most difficult to define, and which will 
suggest themselves to our readers, may combine to render a 
change of curate desirable without its becoming at all neces-i 

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2o8 Position and Prospects of Curates. April 

sarj', or doing the slightest good, to make each one of those 
reasons public. 

Suppose, from whatever cause, in the event of difference 
of opinion between curate and incumbent, both parties feel 
that not merely their own personal relations, but, what is of 
unspeakably greater importance, the Christian interests of the 
parishioners are jeopardized : how would the curate require 
the incumbent to couch the * terms* of dismissal ? And, how- 
ever couched, would not their spirit most assuredly be mis« 
represented or misinterpreted? The practical result would 
be the same in any case ; if unremoved, the curate's position 
as well as the incumbent's would, through strained relations^ 
become utterly intolerable, and the parishioners made the 
greatest sufferers of all. 

And, the parish itself being the chief concern, far beyond 
that of either curate or incumbent, the proposed remedy which 
might He in the bishop's power of preventing a curate's dismissal 
would be entirely ineffectual ; since, no matter how capricious 
or vexatious the character and conduct of the incumbent 
might be, as long as he was irremovable himself, no bishop 
would conceivably, in the interests of the parish, force upon 
him for a permanence any fellow worker, however excellent, 
with whom he found himself out of general agreement. 

It may be urged that in cases where such caprice were 
plain to the bishop, he might refuse to license another curate 
to such an incumbent. This would injure the parish itself all 
the more in proportion to the demerits of the incumbent, and 
would also counteract the objects of the Curates' Alliance, by 
diminishing the number of posts available for assistant curates 
to occupy. 

V. The next suggestion is based on the statement that 
there is reason to fear that, under the present system, the 
bishops know little of the assistant clergy of their dioceses, 
except in some casual way. 

We will touch upon this misfortune itself, before ex- 
amining its suggested remedy. 

Considering that there are 30 bishops^ and 5,300 assistant 
curates, scattered over 37,000,000 acres of space, we find that 
each bishop has in his diocese, on an average (not counting 
changes and fluctuations to and from other dioceses), 276 
assistant curates, located over an average space of 1,250,00a 
acres. Is it at all a matter of wonder or blame if he ' know 

^ We leave out Sodor and Man from calculation, as that diocese has 
only 31 benefices and 14 curates, all of whom are probably known to the 

Digitized by 


i882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 209 

but little* of them individually? How is it possible that he 
can know much of them? Or even much more than at 
present ? If he went about each Sunday of his life to hear 
one fresh one preach, it would take, allowing for changes and 
new ordinations, more than four years of his time ; and a 
man's pulpit powers, be it remembered, go for only one factor 
•out of many in estimating not merely his general fitness for 
xiny post at all, but his special fitness for each special post 
as, at rare intervals, it becomes vacant, and a bishop has 
j)ower to appoint. To know much more than he does at 
present of his assistant clergy is only possible on the as- 
•sumption that such a diocese as Sodor and Man were typical 
in its extent ; but even then the curate's case would be no 
bettered by the bishop's personal knowledge, since the pro- 
portion of vacant preferments to assistant curates employed 
•would not be altered in the least. 

By way of a remedy for this necessarily imperfect 
personal knowledge the bishops have of the assistant curates 
»(a misfortune, we admit, but lying in the very nature of things), 
the Curates* Alliance suggests a course which a little con- 
sideration will show they are quite mistaken in declaring 
would * obviate the disadvantage.' 

For the recommendation made 'that the bishops should keep 
formal registers of the assistant clergy, recording the length 
•of their services in the Church, in England and abroad^ and 
their incidental contributions to its efficiency, also taking 
into account their intellectual attainments* would be perhaps 
admitted to be desirable, but should first be proved to be 

Let us consider what this implies. Bishops at the present 
time, certainly in most cases, keep their own private registers, 
"with their own annotations, relative to the clergy who are 
licensed in their dioceses. And this alone, even in the baldest 
form, gives the busiest men of their age, which bishops are, 
a very large share of laborious work. But that each bishop 
should have to do this, not only with regard to his own dio- 
•cesan share of the assistant curates, but also with regard to 
thirty times the number, not one of whom was antecedently 
•certain ever to take a post in his diocese, is as far beyond all 
reason to require as it is beyond all possibility to do. 

Nor, if practicable and practised, would it be of the least 
avail ; for, be it remembered, such a register exists already. 
There is not a bishop on the bench whose study table is with- 
out a Crockfordy and that admirable and comprehensive work 
supplies (on terms of great advantage to the assistant curates^ 


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2IO Position and Prospects of Curates, April 

since it publishes their own statement of their services) just 
the very particulars which we are told the bishops ought ta 
be continually registering relative to the special class of the 
clergy whose case we are discussing. If this information be 
at the hand of every bishop now, and yet it be feared he 
knows too little of his assistant curates, we cannot think that 
practically to copy out the appalling list would in the slightest 
degree obviate the difficulty. 

VI. The claim that every ordained man should have a 
vote in electing Proctors to Convocation has a share of reason^ 
in its sound. But its effect would probably be the extinction 
of any real power which Convocation has recovered or may 
recover ; since it would tend more or less to make the voice 
of Convocation echo, as unquestionable doctrine, whatever cry 
might be newest or loudest among the brood of ecclesiastical 
fledglings, rather than what the sound and ripe wisdom of 
quiet, skilled, and serious theologians might uphold. 

We think a reform might indeed be made in this matter ; 
in the direction of giving a vote for Convocation to everjr 
man, beneficed or otherwise, who had been in orders for 
a certain fixed number of years, and to no others. 

We have thus gone carefully through the practical, or the 
assumedly practical, measures proposed by the Alliance, with 
the result, we regret to say, of finding very little prospect of 
their attainment, or very little hope of their benefitting the 
parties concerned, if attained. The uncertainty of tenure 
of any single post must, we fear, always exist while there are 
differences of character, feeling, temper and efficiency ii> 
different men. Short of automatic action, of Procrustean 
measurement, and of unvariable environment, this must 
always be the case. Of course we are not concerned to say,, 
indeed it would be most unjust even to think, that faults or 
deficiencies in any of these matters are by any means always 
on the curate's side. 

But there is one measure the omission of which from the 
programme strikes us as requiring remark, since it is the 
obviously first indispensable requisite for the correction of 
what seems to be the truest grievance of all those debated ; 
namely, the uncertainty of obtaining independent posts, or, in 
a word, promotion to benefices. The Curates* Alliance does 
not propose that no curate shall be appointed to a benefice 
before serving as a curate the average number of years. 

Another of the Rev. R. Mackreth Deane's excellent 
papers in The Church and her CurateSy that on * The Rate of 
Promotion,' shows us that the period is no shorter than 

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i882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 2 1 1 

twelve years. As there are no present means of multiplying 
the benefices, or diminishing the demand for curates, the 
only clear way to set the alleged wrong right would be to 
prohibit any one from holding a living at all till he had 
served that length of time as a curate. But we greatly 
question whether the majority of the gentlemen forming the 
Curates' Alliance would dream of undertaking even a much 
smaller disability than this, and submitting to a rule which 
should prevent any man's institution to a benefice above 
200/. a year till he had passed, let us say, ten years in active 

In fact, such a self-denying ordinance is not in human 
nature, and, were it carried out, there would be soon a dearth 
of candidates for orders. But the placing the matter in this 
light will remind us that after all incumbents are only curates 
moved on, and that the parties ready, in the subordinate 
condition, to complain to-day of the more successful class 
would not hesitate to join their ranks and share their odium 
to-morrow if they had the chance ; though their doing so, 
before completing the average time of service, would from 
their previous point of view be of prejudice to the curates* 
interests which they are now, very rightly, concerned to 

The Alliance, however unsuccessful, so far, in the enforce- 
ment of its views with regard to other people, has been of 
service, in one way at least, by teaching its members to 
provide to some extent for themselves. 

For out of its discussions has arisen, as a kindred, but 
not an actually identical, work, the Clergy Friendly Society, 
founded to enable them to make provision for payment of 
stipends during sickness and incapacity to officiate. This is 
excellent in its way, and we wish the measure, which is really 
a practical one, and far more reasonable and hopeful than the 
others proposed, every possible extension and success. With 
such a society the curate may feel himself tolerably secure of 
existence, if not of dignity and wealth. While well, he will 
earn his stipend ; when sick, he will have his sick pay ; so 
that, during all his working life he may feel fairly secure from 
want. But when the working life is over and old age comes 
on, he must seek for something further in the way of pension, 
the consideration of which leads us, by a natural transition, to 
the subject of the Curates' Augmentation Fund. A develop- 
ment of the Curates' Augmentation Fund, which would really 
enable it to carry out its first idea — that is, to give to every 
unbeneficed curate while still at work, after fifteen or sixteen 

p 2 

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2 1 2 Position and Prospects of Curates. April 

years of service, lOo/. a year (not really as a dole or favour, 
but as a public recognition of service) — would of course provide 
directly the first requisite for a satisfactory adjustment of the 
great, and in no other way remediable, inequality which exists, 
and must always exist, between the professional fortunes of 
different individuals in the Christian ministry. And it seems 
rather strange that this most admirable society, highly appre- 
ciated as it is both for its intentions and its achievements, 
should be obliged to limit its annual stipends (for they should 
not be called benefactions) to only 50/. a year instead of ioo/.» 
and should be able to pay those sums over to only 250 
clergymen out of more than 1,000 still at work as unbeneficed 
curates after fifteen years of service. 

We cannot but look with hopeful confidence to a great 
strengthening of this society ; but we can think of nothing 
more likely to swell its funds and extend its benefits than to 
show to those who are asked to support it some supplementary 
prospect of aid from another direction, both in lessening the 
number of claimants on its funds, and in shortening of the 
period during which the claims are likely to be made. 

For there is this unavoidable incompleteness in the opera- 
tions of the Curates' Augmentation Fund : whatever it pays 
is, and must be, almost without exception, paid to the man 
still in worky and the recipients of its stipends may, at the 
best, look for their receipt with tolerable security only from 
the age of forty till incapacitated by sickness or old age from 
active service. But, when that time comes, when their work 
and earnings end, their supplements from the Augmentation 
Fund must, as a rule, end also, and the poor men who have 
lived a life of struggle, with little possibility of doing more 
than barely paying their way, are left entirely unprovided. 
Contributors to the Augmentation Fund must often, for this 
reason, limit their liberality from a sense of its necessary final 
insufficiency ; while, could they see a way in which the needs 
of infirm old age could be securely provided for, they would 
make more cheerful, because more hopeful, efforts at bridging 
over the time of what are generally lessening earnings as the 
unbeneficed man grows old. 

It will be plain to our readers that this line of thought 
touches the often mooted, never settled, and most difficult 
subject of a pension fund for the unbeneficed. Knowing how 
generally thoughtless all young folk are as to providing for 
possible but very distant needs, we doubt that good men are 
often kept out of the ministry from fear of destitution in old 
age ; but we have no doubt whatever that they would he 

Digitized by 


i882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 213 

more hopeful in entering it, and more happy throughout their 
course, if they knew that, however small their fortunes as to 
preferment might prove, they were secure, when their active 
strength failed, of a sufficient sustenance to live. 

But how can any such thing be assured ? Are the 
requisite funds to come from national sources ? Impossible. 
The nation has long ago divorced itself from any cost for the 
Established Church and its ministry. Are they to come from 
private benevolence ? Then it will, and must be, precarious 
and insecure. The zeal that might contribute large annual 
subscriptions to-day, which would seem to assure a certain 
future pension to all new candidates for the ministry, might 
slacken of itself, or be alienated to-morrow by .some new 
vagaries on the part of some new generation of divines ; the 
fund might dwindle and the provision fail. Or, even were 
this not the case, the contributions, while largely supplementing 
the sort of work done by the Curates* Augmentation Fund, 
would be sure to diminish its power of working, since a large 
part of those contributions would certainly be withdrawn 
from the Augmentation to swell the Pension Fund ; and in 
proportion as Peter was thus robbed to pay Paul, the pro- 
posed method would be a failure. Or, lastly, the better 
provision promised, but not perfectly secured, would attract 
more men into the ministry, who would increase the number 
of claimants on the fund, and tend to multiply the misery it 
was meant to lighten. 

Even laying these objections aside, there is one far graver 
that makes against the possibility of any Pension Fund yet 
proposed being anything better than a spasmodic success. 
It is the stern but sound economical objection that, however 
well deserved by the pensioners, such a fund would b6 
dependent upon other people, instead of upon themselves. 
Tlie only hope of anything' stable and effectual being accoin- 
plisJied must lie in the direction of self aid ; and that of 
^solute not of partial self-aid. That alone can effect the 
purpose required, while the establishment of a good Pension 
Fund by the clergy themselves will greatly stimulate efforts in 
other directions by loyal friends of the Church, while obviating 
the objections we have indicated against all other schemes. 

* The principle is undoubtedly sound,* we hear our reader 
say to himself, * but the practice is impossible ; if the poor 
clergy themselves are to provide from their own small 
resources a retiring pension for old age, it will be a failure. 
A few who have means (and want pensions least) may 
undertake to do it for themselves ; but the many, whose 

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214 Position and Prospects of Curates. April 

needs through working life are pressing, will neither have 
the means, the self-denial, nor the perseverance, to deduct 
continual large cantles from their small earnings in order to 
provide subsistence for the time of infirmities which they 
may never suffer, and old age which they may never see — the 
proof of which view lies in the fact that they do not do it now/ 
At first blush this seems very good common sense. And 
yet we are bold to beg the careful attention of our readers to 
a proposal, which seems to us a hopeful one, of establishing, and 
supporting with the aerates' own moftey a Pension Fund, which 
will perfectly secure lOo/. a year to every man henceforth 
to be ordained, who at any date after sixty years of age shall 
be holding no clerical benefice of more value than 150/. a year. 
If such a contrivance could be provided, it is worthy of 
notice ^hat, as far as affects the operations of the * Curates* 
Augmentation Fund,' it would set free for its noble purposes 
more than a ninth part (ii*6 per cent.) of its yearly income, 
that being the proportion of recipients from the Augmentation 
who have reached their sixtieth year (or, at all events, who have 
been thirty-seven years in orders). If the average age of 
ordination be set as high as twenty-five years, instead of 
twenty-three years, the relief will appear still greater: it 
would set free a sixth part instead of a ninth part of the funds. 
And it would have two other advantages : the recipients from 
the Augmentation Fund would feel that their own inde- 
pendent provision could, so far as setting the Augmentation 
Fund free after its beneficiaries reached sixty years of age, be 
regarded as a considerable contribution on their part to the 
fund itself, and thus diminish pro tanto their sense of being in 
any way objects of charity ; while, as regards persons invited 
to contribute to the Augmentation Fund, their willingness to 
do so would be quickened by the new feeling thus afforded 
that they would be helping men who had proved their willing- 
ness to help themselves. 

Another immense tangible advantage would result to the 
clerical profession and the status of its members by the 
singular stimulation which would be given to the resignation 
by old men of small livings, which, for mere subsistence sake, 
they are fully justified in clinging to at the present time, 
however personally infirm and incapable they may be. The 
operation of the Pension Fund would, at a much earlier age 
than now, place at the disposal of the unbeneficed men at all 
events all the smaller independent posts for which so many 
vainly long, and the possession of which, to a vast number, 
would do away with all the sense of servitude and humiliation 

Digitized by 


i882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 215 

complained of by so many who have never obtained a benefice 
at all. For it is obvious that were every man without a 
benefice able to claim 100/. a year as his own pension, it 
^'ould become the interest of every incumbent of a benefice 
under 150/. to resign it tha moment physical infirmity com- 
pelled him to provide assistance for the doing of his ministerial 
work ; and, as a result, an incumbency would be placed at the 
•disposal of a curate years earlier than now. Let us take these 
two cases. A beneficed man at any age after sixty with a 
living of 200/. a year, and obliged to pay a curate. Let us 
suppose the curate to cost him 120/. — and this is at a lower 
calculation than need be, for the average curate's stipend is 
125/. — this will leave him only 100/. for himself with all 
claims and charges, manifold as they are, for parish expenses, 
subscriptions to charities, et /loc gentis omney\^\AGs repairs, at 
least, for the house, and the rates and taxes upon it Will it 
be called unreasonable to put these at 30/. ? He remains 
^endowed with 70/. as his whole provision by the Church, in a 
place where he is expected to be always spending money. 

But if he resign his living, he may obtain possibly 661,^ 
but in any case 60/., as a retiring pension ; and from the 
moment of his resignation adds to that sum his own pension 
of 100/., is free from all responsibility, may live where he 
likes on any scale of expense that suits him best, may take 
a little occasional duty as he may be able, and at all events 
may end his days in rest and ease with a secure income, 
without work, of 160/., instead of continuous work, under 
a sense of growing incapacity, with an income of only 70/. 
And if this be the case with regard to incomes of fully 200/., 
the effect in stimulating resignations of livings smaller still 
would be even more remarkable. The incumbent of one 
worth only 150/. a year has practically nothing to live on 
when obliged to employ a substitute whose tenure depends 
on the incumbent's life. If he retired upon his * thirds ' and 
pension he would have 150/.; while his stipendiary, or a 
stipendiary, would be willing enough to accept the living, 
€ven chargeable with the pension, as securing himself an 
* independent post.' 

The result would be that nearly all the posts under 200/. 
a year would be resigned at a much earlier age than now, and 
a much greater number of independent positions be at the 
disposal of the stipendiary curates in their earlier work. 

We have calculated only the lowest values of livings, those 
bielow 200/. a year ; but it is easy to see further, that the induce- 
ment to early retirement would affect many more incumbents 

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2i6 Position and Prospects of Curates. April 

than these, since the holder of a living worth 250/., if obliged 
to pay a curate even as little as looi., would, by retiring on 
his 'thirds' and pension, have an income of over 180/. and 
rest, as against only 1 50/. and a house, but \vith undiminished 
responsibilities and care. 

And the holder of a living of 300/. a year, under the same 
supposed circumstances, would on retirement have exactly 
the same net income, 200/. a year (less a house), without 
work as he would with work. 

The effect then of providing such a Pension Fund would be 
to greatly quicken the resignation of nearly two-thirds of all 
benefices in the Church of England (the proportion under 
300/. to those over it being in the ratio of all but two to one), 
and consequently to throw open two-thirds of the independent 
posts to the stipendiary curates at an earlier date, and at 
more frequent intervals, than at the present time. 

This would take away a great part of the present ground 
of complaint, that so many of the stipendiary curates are 
kept so long entirely dependent on the wills and purses of 
incumbents for even subordinate posts in which to execute 
their functions ; and by promoting many more to independent 
positions would leave to those unpromoted a better chance 
and greater certainty of employment. 

It would do more than this. Many, too many, of these 
unfortunate good men have passed the age of hope ; their 
illusions are faded away, their ambitions are dead, they are 
hot found, for the most part, in the ranks of the Curates" 
Alliance, concerning which some cruel demonstrator pointed 
out last winter that their four most prominent men had been 
only, on an average, some three years in holy orders, and 
could hardly be regarded as sufferers at all, except in 
possible prospect, from the evils they have set themselves to 
reform. The older ones, some of whose patient, gentle, 
unmurmuring, nay, we may even say saintly, letters in the 
clerical papers most deeply touch the hearts and sympathies 
of brethren of better fortune, as the world thinks, and some- 
times of much worse deserts, as they think themselves, take 
no part in the suggested agitation, but only point out 
anxiously, as well they may, the fact, that as they grow the 
older they must change their posts the oftener, and, as a 
simple matter of statistics, be content, at each remove, with a 
diminished income. These are the men who are past ambi- 
tion, but who have a right to bread, to whom the supplement 
of the Augmentation Fund till sixty, while they could work> 
would be an advantage indeed, but to whom, when they could 

Digitized by 


1882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 217 

work no more, and their stipend and supplement must cease 
together, the pension of 100/. a year would make their bread 
secure, and the sense that it was self-provided would make 
it sweet as well. 

But, desirable and advantageous as such a retiring pension 
would manifestly be, we are of course to be met next by the 
question, ' How is it to be provided i ' Is there any conceiv- 
able means of making all the curates willing, and, if willing, 
of making them able, to secure so valuable a provision } 

Let us examine the matter a little closely, begging our 
readers to read these remarks to the end. If any young 
man at the time of his ordination were to pay to the Post 
Office a sum of 167/., he could purchase a right, nationally 
secured, to an annual pension of 100/. a year on reaching 
sixty years. If every one did it, with the limitation of his 
right to draw pension to his holding no benefice above 1 50/. 
a year, it could be secured for about 85/.* This at Post 
Office rates, whose money is invested at a very low interest^ 
3i per cent. The investment of such a fund as we propose^ 
requiring hardly any loading,' and needing to make no 
profits for shareholders, might on 'mutual' principles be made 
at a much higher rate, say 3I or even 4 per cent,* which at 
compound interest would very largely cheapen the rate we 
have proposed, reducing the 85/. probably to a sum less than 
70/. ; which, if every man at his ordination could be com- 
pelled or induced to pay, would effect the great object 

As to being compelled, this is of course out of the ques^ 
tion. Is there any possibility of their being induced } Can 
any immediate tangible advantage be offered them sufficient to 
persuade them, or the friends they depend on till able to earn 
their own living, to pay down the proposed sum ? 

We think there can, and that by a very simple process ; 
namely, by the bishops seeking the power (if they do not now 
possess it, which is a question), and by their exercising the 
power when obtained, to ordain deacons a year earlier than 
at present (and that really for the advantage of the Church 
itself), an condition of the person so ordained securing the 
pension either by a previous cash payment, or out of his first 
two years* stipend. 

* There are calculated (in Mr. Deane's statistics) to ba 18,126 clergy* 
of whom 5,500 are curates, and 3,777 holding livings under 150/. a year ; 
together 9,277 to draw from the fund; while 18,126 contribute. This 
would just halve the cost. 

* The whole funds of the Clergy Mutual Assurance Society are in- 
vested at an average of 4/. 3^. lod. per cent. 

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2i8 Position and Prospects of Curates. April 

Quite apart from any proposal of this sort, the introduction 
of the earlier diaconate (of course, we make no proposal to 
ordain priests before twenty-four years of age) has for many 
other reasons been long desired, as the insertion of the words 
•(taken from the form for Ordination of Deacons) * unless he 
have a faailty ' in the new code of canons drawn up by Con- 
vocation most plainly shows. The only difficulty in the way 
would be the cost of the faculty, which a short Act of Par- 
liament might, for this object alone, reduce to a nominal sum> 
say five shillings, without injuring any vested interest what- 
ever, no faculties for this object being ever granted now. 

Suppose this, then, to be done, the candidate for orders, 
instead, as is nearly always the case now, of requiring the 
support of his friends during his twenty-third year, and 
-earning nothing, would be earning about 115/. for himself, 
from which, if he paid the whole insurance at once, he would 
have 45/. towards the cost of his own subsistence, which 
otherwise his friends would have to supply entirely; and if 
he chose to divide it over two years, he might lessen the 
•difficulty, if dependent on his own exertions solely, while 
securing himself, beyond all possibility of loss, an additional 
100/. a year, when he reached sixty years of age, if holding 
a small living ; or if only a curate, an independent provision 
of that amount, if unbeneficed. 

To put the matter plainly, a candidate for orders at the 
present time can hardly live, without a cost, however provided, 
of 50/. for his twenty-third year. The saving of this cost, 
with added stipend of 1 1 5/., which he might earn if ordained 
at twenty-two, would represent 165/. The pa3mient of, say 
70/., as premium for pension would leave him by 95/. better 
off in the first year of his ministry, and give him full security, 
at least, against necessity in old age, before the thought of 
which so many good men faint and tremble now while labour- 
ing in the vineyard of the Lord, and seeing the sun go slowly 
down upon their diminishing powers. 

But, it may be said, if the bishop ordain a man on the 
promise of payment, even though the promise be entered in 
the nomination, he cannot deprive the man of his orders 
should he fail of carrying out the condition. The answer 
is, he would not, at the end of his two years, admit him to 
priest's orders were the condition unfulfilled. 

And should the deacon resign his functions and never 
proceed to priest's orders, he might be permitted to recover 
the sum he had paid in, less interest during the time it had 
been invested. 

Digitized by 


1 882. Position and Prospects of Curates. 219 

Of course the details and estimates of such a scheme are 
only rough and approximate ; at the same time, as showing 
some hopeful prospect of the extrication, in the future, of a 
large class from a pressing and painful difficulty, we are bold 
to commend it to the thoughtful consideration of all parties 


TIu Holy Bible^ according to the Authorized Version (a.d. 1 6 1 1 ). With 
an Explanatory Ofid Critical Commentary and a Revision of the 
Translation. Edited by F. C. Cook, ALA., Canon of Exeter. 
New Testament. Vol. IV., Hebrews— The Revelation o/S. John. 
(London : John Murray, 1881.) 

With this volume comes to its natural completion and close one of 
the most interesting literary enterprises, bearing upon the interpreta- 
tion of Scripture, which has been undertaken in our time. Ten years 
have elapsed since the publication of the first volume, and notwith- 
standing the appearance of more than one formidable rival, it has more 
than held its ground during that period. It was characteristic of the 
spirit in which the work was undertaken, that the words * By Bishops 
and other Clergy of the Anglican Church ' were frankly and boldly 
put upon its title-page. As a scholaily, thoughtful, and, above all, 
cautious and conservative handling of die Sanptures, it is, for the 
most part, a very fair and adequate expression of the mind of the 
Anglican Church. The later volumes, we think, exhibit wider research 
and a more leisurely treatment of the text than the earlier ; and their 
much larger size is an intimation of the fact which every eye will at 
once appreciate. The volume before us, for instance, is about twice 
as thick as that on Genesis and Exodus ; and about as much space 
has been given to eight Epistles (all very short indeed, with the 
single exception of that to the Hebrews) and the Apocalypse as to 
the whole of the Pentateuch, with the numerous questions of very 
great difficulty which are suggested by it Encyclopaedic learning 
poured out upon the particular question in hand is not, perhaps, a 
characteristic of any part of the Commentary. Unlike, e.g,^ the Com- 
mentary of Lange, and German Biblical criticism in general, the 
results alone are given, and the evidence is not exhibited with any 
approach to completeness. Such a course spares lay readers trouble ; 
but it renders the work far less helpful to the leamed, who care less 
for the ipse dixit of any one man, however able, than for the present- 
ation of the whole of the facts bearing on the case, and the general 
consensus of opinions upon it It is no doubt very characteristic of 
the diflferences between English and German readers, that the one 
class should require this thoroughness of literary treatment of a sub- 
ject, and the other should not 

Digitized by 


220 Short Notices. April 

To come, however, to this Vol. IV., the Commentary on the 
Epistle to the Hebrews has been undertaken by Dr. Kay ; on the 
Epistles of S. Peter by the Editor and Professor Lumby, who has 
also undertaken the Epistle of S. Jude ; while the three Epistles of 
S. John have all been committed to the Bishop of Derry ; and the 
Revelation to Archdeacon Lee of Dublin. Of this last comment — 
a remarkable effort from whichever side we look at it — we must 
express a high opinion. It required considerable hardihood to 
attempt a fresh exposition of that book, which, by the insoluble diffi- 
culties it presents in identifying the fulfilment of its prophecies, has 
proved the crux of so many orthodox commentators. The threshold 
of the subject is, as it were, strewed with wrecks of abandoned 
systems of interpretation, and with historical guesses of which time has 
proved the futility. It has been said of the Apocalypse that it * either 
finds men mad or leaves them so.' Dr. Lee is, however, careful not 
to add another * system' to this melancholy list. He treats the 
exposition historically and recalls the various writers and schools of 
interpretation, but he does not affect to decide between these : and 
in this he no doubt shows his wisdom. It may, perhaps, be gathered 
from various remarks made by him that the * Spiritual ' system of 
interpretation is that which he would prefer. He rather mtimates 
than expresses this view in the following passage : — 

* The " Spiritual " system of interpretation receives support from the 
review of Apocalyptic symbolism which has occupied sections 9-1 1 of this 
Introduction: It appears from that review how naturally the imagery of 
the book describes, in accordance with the whole spirit of prophecy^ 
the various conditions of the Kingdom of God on earth, during its suc- 
cessive struggles against the Prince of this world. The figfurative utter- 
ances of the Seer are specially suited for this purpose, owing to the 
latitude of application which all symbolism allows ; and this, without dis- 
torting the sense, or offering violence to the language, of a single passage. 
• . . As already pointed out, the "Spiritual" application is never 
exhausted, but merely receives additional illustrations as time roUs on ; 
while the " Historical " system assumes that single events, as they come 
to pass in succession, exhibit the full accomplishment of the different 
predictions of the Apocalypse' — (pp. 491, 492). 

The section on * Symbolic Numbers ' is remarkably able and 
learned. But where the author wishes to derive the significance of 
the number seven from the seven days during which ' Creation arose 
from Chaos,' it may not unreasonably be objected, by those critics 
whose theories he is discussing, that this is one of the instances of the 
working of the principle in question, and so is itself derivative and 
requires to be accounted for. The varieties of interpretation, again^ 
as to * The Number of the Beast,* * Antichrist,' * The Holy Roman 
Empire,' give occasion for dissertations on each, which are of the 
greatest interest and value, though necessarily much compressed. On 
the other hand, we, somewhat to our surprise, fail to find the discus- 
sion we should have looked for, as to the source from whence the 
symbolic imagery of the description given of the worship in heaven 
was derived. Was it from the ritual of the Jewish Temple ? or, as it 
has been maintained in our o^vn day, from that of the Primitive 

Digitized by 


i882. Short Notices. 221 

Church? This treatise occupies 439 pages out of the 844 which 
compose the volume. The remaining commentaries are as good and 
satisfactory as might be expected from the high reputation of their 
respective authors ; except that Dr. Kay's comment on Hebrews, 
though minute and painstaking, seems to us somewhat cold and un* 
"Sympathetic in tone. The writer of this Epistle, whoever he may 
have been, was apparently an enthusiast about the Mosaic ritual : in 
other words, he was one of that class of men so much persecuted at 
the present day — z. Ritualist ! 

The Pulpit Commentary, i Kings, Exposition and HomUetics. Rev, 
Joseph Hammond, LL.B., B.A., Vicar of S. Austell. 

Leviticus, Introductions, Rev. R. Collins, M.A. \ Rev. Prof. A. 
Cave, B.A. Exposition and Homilctics, Rev. F. Meyrick, 
M.A., Rector of Blickling. (London : Kegan Paul, Trench 
and Co., 1882.) 

The growth of this Commentary is really astonishing. Volume 
succeeds volume with a really remarkable rapidity ; and yet we are 
bound to sa^ that the character of the contents does not appear to 
deteriorate in any way , and that the moderate standard of the early 
volumes b quite maintained and even improved upon. The former 
of the two volumes before us supplies, in addition to the Commentary, 
properly so named, an intelligent discussion of the various questions 
concerning the sources and authorship of the so-called Books of the 
Kings. It is probably the case that no certain conclusion can be 
ever reached upon either of these subjects. That * Hebrew antiquity 
does not know the secular historian,' a sentiment which Mr. 
Hammond quotes with approval from Bkhr, is so far from elucidat- 
ing the question of who was their author, that it makes it still more 
obscure, by rendering any presumption that might be formed, by 
reasoning from the character of their contents, to the last degree 
uncertain. But it is singular that after Mr. Hammond has thus 
narrowed the ground of authorship by distinctly showing (according 
to his view) that the history must be due to a proplut^ he should then 
express any doubt as to the authorship of Jeremiah, which, as he 
rightly allows, is expressly asserted by the Talmud, ^/eretnias scripsit 
lidrum suum et librum regum et threnos,^ The difficulty of which he 
makes much, arising from the necessity supposed by him, of putting 
the composition of the book as late as b.c. 562, or ac. 561 at latest, is 
not, as would seem, as formidable as he makes it. If we suppose, eg,^ 
the concluding section of the Book of Kings (2 Kings xxv. 27-30), 
to be a later addendum to the history, and by another hand, as the 
corresponding section added to the prophecy of Jeremiah (Hi. 31-34, 
and probably the entire chapter) certainly is, then we at once add on 
twenty-six years, almost an entire generation, to the age of the book, 
and bring it well within the limit of Jeremiah's prophetic activity.* 
We do not propound this solution as in all respects satisfactory. But 
we own that we think the authorship of Jeremiah as well nigh certain, 

* See Ewald, Proph, of the 0,T,^ vol. iii. p. 90 ; also p. 298 of Bahr's 
Commentary on the Kings^ in Lange's Bibelwerk (Eng. ed.). 

Digitized by 


222 Short Notices. April 

even on the facts as far as now known to us ; and we can by no means 
coincide in Mr. Hammond's conclusion that *it is impossible to 
speak positively one way or the other.' 

In fact this introduction, learned, painstaking, and generally 
meritorious as it is, is somewhat deficient in originality. The 
author marshals and discusses the arguments of other writers, with 
an avoidance of positive conclusions of his own. This would be a 
matter of small importance if the Commentary were for the use of 
learned scholars alone. But the general reader requires the guidance 
of clearly expressed views on the part of a commentator. 

The volume on Leviticus is valuable for a well-digested and reverent 
treatise on the Levitical Sacrifices literally Considered, by Professor 
Alfred Cave, author of a meritorious work on The Scriptural Doctrine 
of Sacrifice, published in 1877. The subject was no doubt familiar to 
him, and he has treated it with power and luminousness, and in an ad- 
mirable spirit. We were tempted, however, to exclaim Ne sutor ultra 
crepidam when we found Mr. Cave speaking of S. Isidore Hispalensis 
as 'that delicate exegete, Isidore of Hispala' (why not Anglicize the 
name uniformly, and say * Isidore of Seville?') — nor did the term 
chosen seem to us to describe S. Isidore very happily. Reading on, 
however, we came to an incidental statement that * the reign of 
Augustine in Biblical hermeneutics gave way to that of Isidore, 
whose work De Allegoriis became a type of Scriptural exposition in 
the middle ages,' which makes us fear that Mr. Cave is not greatly 
conversant with the works of the writers he refers to (if indeed he had 
seen them, for they are somewhat rare). For, firstly, S. Isidore did 
not belong to the * middle ages' at all, but to the seventh century. 
He was Bishop of Seville from a.d. 601 to a.d. 636. Secondly, there 
is, so far as we are aware, no work De Allegoriis among his writings. 
The work intended must be Allegoriarum quanmdam Sacrc& Scriptura: 
liber unus^ and this is but a brief tract, occupying seven folios (sheets, 
not volumes) only. To talk of it as if it were the magnum opus of the 
writer, and had worked a revolution in the mind of his age, is, we 
think, to show a considerable misapprehension of the facts of the 
case. Nor can we follow Mr. Cave in attributing to S. Isidore that 
his influence supplanted that of S. Augustine, except over a very small 
area and for a very brief period ; for Isidore, though he had a con- 
siderable local reputation, never could be said to have exercised any 
very large influence over general European thought. Du Pin says 
of him that ' he was well read, but had not so much fineness of wit 
and elevation of mind ; there is nothing commendable in his style 
but the clearness of it ; he is neither eloquent nor polite ; his own 
opinions are often false, and he does not always make a good choice 
when he borrows of others.' It was but a local Council ^the 8th of 
Toledo) which, among other high compliments, spoke of him as ' the 
last of the fathers.' Can Mr. Cave have been thinking of that umbra 
nominis Isidore Mercator or Peccator, and of the vast influence of the 
forged Decretals ? 

Notwithstanding this slip, the Essay is a good one, and worth 

Digitized by 


i882. Short Notices. 

We cannot say as much in favour of the Essay which preceded. 
The writer can hardly suppose that he is rightly describing high 
Eucharistic doctrine when he says that * it is necessary for salvation 
that the lx)dy, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ should be digested 
in the human stomach.' We fail to see the morality of caricatunng an 
obnoxious doctrine and then calling it ' blasphemous ' (p. xiii.). 

The Cambridge Bible for Schools. The Book of Judges. By the Rev. 
J. J. Lias, M.A. (Cambridge, 1882.) 

Mr. Lias has already contributed two small volumes (on the ist 
and 2nd Epistle to the Corinthians) to the New Testament series of 
tiiis Commentary. In tlie book now before us he gives abundant 
illustrations by way of historical parallels to this the period of 
Hebrew history to which it relates. Of older commentators, he 
extracts freely and judiciously from Bp. Hall, quoting from a quaint 
seventeenth-century edition of the Contemflaitons. We observe, 
also, references to Blunt's Coincidences^ and to Isaac Williams' ^^^/>/^ 
Characters. In the Appendix we may notice a version of the Song 
of Deborah^ illustrating the characteristics of Hebrew poetry ; also aa 
historical summary of opinion on the nature of Jeph&ah's fulfilment 
of his rash vow. Mr. Lias (as the Bishop of Lincoln has done on 
similar grounds) pronounces decidedly th^t it was literally carried 

In the case of books intended for the use of schools, we may 
perhaps be permitted to be fastidious about spelling. In a Com- 
mentary on the Book of fttdges the word apostasy is in frequent 
request ; in this volume it is only once spelt rightly (p. 34), so far as 
we have noticed. 

The Revelation of the Risen Lord. By B. F. Westcott, D.D., Regius 
Professor of Divinity, Cambridge, &c (London and Cambridge : 
Macmillan, 1881.) 

In these * short studies,* as they are described in the preface, Dr. 
Westcott, who seventeen years ago published a work on The Gospel of 
the Resurrection, makes a second contribution to what may be called 
our Easter literature : a contribution * intended to serve as an intro- 
duction or a supplement to ' the former volume. This connection 
determines the character of the smaller book. In it Mr. Westcott 
does not, like Christlieb, set in array against negative criticism the 
manifold splendours of the Easter triumph ; he does not, like Isaac 
Williams, lead us onward with gentle yet subduing solemnity into the 
inmost sanctuaries of Easter devotion. He aims, as before, at 
showing how the Resurrection explains * the mysteries of personal 
life, the whole progress of mankind,' the very existence of a Christian 
Church; how *it is not properly an overwhelming fact attesting 
doctrines separate from itself, but a revelation which illuminates the 
whole range of human experience, all that we hear and see and feel/ 
(p. xiii.). In our age, he justly considers, it will most easily win 
credence, or find least difficulty in disarming intellectual repugnances, 
if it is presented as *the only adequate interpretation of the manifold 

Digitized by 


224 Slwrt Notices. April 

iphenomena which are set before us,' or, as he says elsewhere (p. 55), 
of * the growing purpose of life." 

Given a God, given the human soul, given the facts of our 
spiritual history, and we can understand them in the light of the 
open sepulchre, at the feet of the Risen Christ : not elsewhere, and 
not otherwise. 

Dr. Westcott in these pages traverses ground which, for the most 
part, is as familiar as it is mexhaustible in significance. He explains 
the limited area of the manifestations — * not to all the people, but to 
witnesses chosen before of God * — substantially as the objection derived 
from it was met by TertuUian and by Origen ; but with a fulness and 
freshness which will be appreciated by a modem reader. The Risen 
Lord, he suggests, was to exhibit * to men, as they could bear it, a 
new life;* the life of the world to come, and of man in that world. 
Had He been simply such as He was before His Passion, had His 
body not been 'glorified ' and spiritualized, He would not have needed 
to appeal to faith, but merely to sense. And 

'Then the experience of unbelievers would have been sufficient to test» 
the witness of unbelievers would have been adequate to establish, 
the reality of the Resurrection. But if it was a foreshadowing of new 
powers of human action, of a new mode of human being, then without a 
corresponding power of spiritual discernment therecould be no testimony 
^o its truth' (p. II). 

So as to the sceptical assumption that the disciples were expect- 
ing a resurrection, and therefore eagerly grasped at the good news^ 
Professor Westcott, like other writers, insists that 

* There was in the society of the believers no enthusiastic hope to 
-create visions, still less to create visions which involved the sacrifice of 
cherished expectations ' (p. x.). In * the narrative of S. Luke we see 
in a vivid transcript from life that the idea of the Resurrection was 
strange and even alarming to the disciples as a body . . . that belief was 
enforced only after long resistance' (p. 65). 

The doubts of S. Thomas, and the mode in which our Lord 
dealt with them, are treated on the old lines, but, we think, with 
peculiar success : less eloquently, indeed, than in Archbishop Trench's 
Westminster Abbey Sermons^ but still in the same general tone. 
Dr. Westcott points out that Thomas, in his response to Christ's words> 
rose at a bound to a height far above what a sensuous test could have 
made accessible. And he adds with pointed suggestiveness — 

* If indeed the Risen Christ had been no more than Thomas could 
have proved by his touch, then indeed the very fulfilment of his test 
would have destroyed the Apostle's real hope ' (p. 103). 

That Christ 'deals tenderly with the doubter who is ready to 
believe * has become a commonplace of modern preaching. But it is 
specially a word in season which Dr. Westcott adds : 

* Doubts are often dallied with ; and, still worse, they are often affected. 
It is strange that the hypocrisy of scepticism should be looked upon as 
less repulsive than the affectation of belief ; yet in the present day it has 
become almost a fashion for men to repeat doubts on the gravest ques* 
tions without the least sense of personal responsibility.* 

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i882. Short Notices. 225 

Again, like M, Godet (see CQ.H.y vol. xiiL p. 247), Dr. Westcott 
dwells on that cessation of the appearances after the Ascension, 

/ is intelligible if they were granted for the specific end of producing the 
faith which they did produce : is not intelligible if they were the creation 
of enthusiasm ' (p. 192). 

He carefully distinguishes the visions of S. Stephen, of Ananias, 
and of S. Paul during his apostleship, from the appearance at SauPs 
conversion, which 

^was on the same line as the appearances during the forty days, ob- 
jective and personal' (p. 193). 

So said Dr. Macpherson of Aberdeen in his very able work on 
TAe Resurrtction of Jesus Christ We may refer also to our own 
pages (C Q. -ff., vol. ix. p. 416). 

But we are disappointed by the cloudy language in which Dr. 
Westcott describes the Ascension as only phenomenal, 'not a change 
of place, but a change of state, not local yet spiritual,' although repre- 
sented economically * in an outward form ' (p. 180). That there are 
mysteries surrounding the Ascension narrative we all know; a 
moment's thought suggests them, and they were long ago very plainly 
stated in the second volume of Newman's ParocfutU Sermons. So 
Riggenbach asks (we quote the French translation of his Lectures 
4m the Life of the Lord, p. 629) : 'Dirons-nous que Tascensionne se 
comprend plus depuis Copemic ? ' and answers that — * s'il devait nous 
paraitre grange de nous figurer que Christ soit remont^ vers son 
Pfere d'une manifere locale, rappelons-nous que la toute-pr^sence de 
Dieu n'empeche nullement deconsid^rerlesespacesdifii^rentscomme 
des scenes des diverses manifestations de Dieu, et que I'astronomie 
n'dlfeve aucune objection contre elle.' And Bishop Ellicott does not 
shrink from saying, * We may think perchance that we are free. . . . 
to boast the liberty of a suspended assent to what seems all too 
objective and material for the falsely spiritualizing tendencies of the 
age in which we live. . . A hearty belief in the literal and local 
ascent of our Lord's humanity into Uie heavens is in itself a belief in 
the whole mystery of the union of His Godhead and Manhood ' 
{Lectures on Life of our Lord, p. 416). Not that such a belief can 
profess to see dirough all the difficulties of the thought ; but language 
such as Dr. Westcott has used is too idealistic to be satisfactory, and 
suggests some amount of misgiving with regard to his warnings, in 
another passage, against the intrusion of materialistic ideas into the 
field of faith as of science (p. 27). In that passage, moreover, there 
is an instance of that allusive obscurity which is a frequent defect in 
Dr. Westcott's style. He is too fond of sonorous, or, haply, 
melodious generalities; he hints where he should speak out, and 
raises a needless cloud. *The subjects and methods of current con- 
troversy ' lead him to ask 

' whether we ourselves are busy in building the tomb of Christ, or really 
ready to recognize Him if He comes to us in the form of a new life ; 
wheUier we are fruitiessly mourning oyer a loss which is, in fact, die con- 

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2 26 Short Notices. April 

dition of a blessing, or waiting trustfiilly for the transfigurement of a 
dead past ' (p. 27). 

What loss ? we ask ; and how much of the past is dead ? and who 
is * building a tomb ? ' The only interpretation granted us in the 
context is a complaint against the materializing tone of many 
books of devotion and the sentimentalism in many modem hymns. 
There is some truth in this, particularly as to the second indictment. 
When we are told that * devout and passionate worshippers ' even now, 
like Magdalene at the sepulchre, ^ seek to make that which is of the 
earth the centre and type of their service,' and that we are not to turn 
Christ into *a reUc which we can decorate with our offerings,' or His 
Gospel into * a formula which we can repeat with easy pertinacity,' 
the admonition would be none the less useful for being illustrated by 
clear examples of the fault. Meantime we welcome any reminder of 
the fact that the illuminating centre of all worship, all belief, all 
religious activity, is the faith in a present and living Lord. 

In regard to the Ascension, we observe what seems to be an over- 
sight. Dr. Westcott says : 

*■ As they gazed up into heaven. He rose, as it appears, by the exertion 
of His own will, and not, as from the grave, by the power of the Father'' 
(p. 179). 

If this means, as we suppose it must, that the New Testament 
ascribes the Resurrection solely to the Father's agency, and the 
Ascension solely to Christ's own, we must remind Dr. Westcott (i) 
that although Scripture usually employs the passive verb, * to be raised 
up,' in regard to the Resurrection, and although the verb * to rise 
again' is used not only of Christ {e.g, i Thess. iv. 14), but also of 
men in general, who will be raised from the dead by extrinsic power 
{e,g, ib, 16, John xi 24), yet our Lord expressly said that He would 
* raise up the temple' of His body (John ii. 19), and that He 'had 
a right to resume His life' (John x. 18) ; and, as Oosterzee says in 
his Image of Christ in Scripture^ there is no real opposition between 
the two modes of speaking, because * the Son has received of the 
Father to have life in Himself;' and (2) that the active form *to 
ascend' (see John vi. 62, xx. 17, Eph. iv. 9, 10) is balanced by, and 
at the same time is in complete harmony with, the passive forms in 
Acts i. 2, II, I Tim. iii. 16, beside Mark xvi. 19. Any such anti- 
thesis, then, as is indicated in the passage before us, would appear 
to be unreal 

But we must now consider Dr. Westcott's interpretation of what 
is commonly called the Apostolical commission, imparted by our 
Lord on Easter-night. And first, as to his general view ; it is briefly 
this, that the commission was given to * the Christian society ' as a 
whole, * not to any special order in it ; ' that it was the charter of the 
Churdi, and not simply the charter of the ministry (p. 82). He 
means, evidently, that it was not * the charter of the ministry ' in any 
sense at all. He understands it, and also apparently the promise 
relating to the keys, and to the power of binding and loosing, as 
addressed to the disciples representing all Christians, not to the 
Apostles representing a ministry. 

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1 882. Short Notices. 227 

* I do not touch upon the Divine necessity by which the different 
persons and channels through which the manifold graces of the Christian 
life are administered were afterwards marked out I wish only to insist 
upon the Apostolic mission of all Christians, which no subsequent 
delegation of specific duties to others can annul. ... All Christians as 
such are indeed apostles, envoys of their risen Lord. To ministers and 
to people alike, while they are as yet undistinguished, He directs the 
words of sovereign power in the announcement of His victory over death 
and sin,' etc. (p. 83). 

From this it follows that the Apostolate is really co-extensive with 
the whole body of the baptized ; and that the ministerial order was 
not appointed or commissioned by Jesus Christ, but after His 
Ascension, by the Church, acting under a * Divine necessity,' and 
evolving * divers orders,' we presume, in accordance with the promptings 
of the Holy Spirit This is a momentous position enough ; on what 
does it rest, so far as the words in John xx. 21, 22, are concerned? 
Apparently on the facts that all the eleven were not present, and that 
according to Luke xxiv. 33, * there were others assembled with the 
apostles' (p. 81). The word 'disciples,' in S. John, is a usual 
equivalent for ' apostles.' Now the absence of S. Thomas has been 
referred to by Church theologians as indicating that our Lord 
addressed the Apostles, not as individuals, but as an order. And if 
the oi avv avTolg were included in our Lord's address, they may well 
be supposed as having been thereby made ministers ; perhaps they 
were already among the Seventy. But they may have been present 
without being so included ; we are expressly told that on one occasion 
(Luke xii. i fF.) when a vast multitude (ox^ov) encircled Him, He 
began by addressing His disciples in the hearing of the rest; presently 
one of tiie 'multitude' (so rightly rendered in the R.V.) asked Him 
to interfere in a dispute ; He met this request by the parable of the 
rich fool, and then resumed His discourse * to His disciples ; ' after it 
had gone on for some time, S. Peter asked, ' Lord, speakest Thou this 
parable unto us, or also to all ?' and our Lord's answer indicated clearly 
enough that He was addressing the future stewards of His household. 
So it may well have been when, in the presence of more than five 
hundred brethren (according to the opinion shared by Dr. Westcott 
with other interpreters). He commissioned the apostles to make 
disciples of all nations ; and so also in the case before us, of which 
Isaac Williams says unhesitatingly, * of course it is understood that 
the others were present as witnesses ' (Narrative of the Resurrection^ 
p. 328). And is it probable, looking at the circumstances, and what 
preceded and what followed them, that Christ would here have con- 
ferred the apostolate — for it really comes to that — on the whole body 
of believers, represented by those who were then gathered in the 
upper chamber? Canon Wordsworth, in his admirable Bampton 
LectureSy says with great force, * So clear is it that our Lord desired 
to establish a body of officers in His Church, that, as has been well 
said ' (by F. D. Maurice, in his Kingdom of Christ)^ ' ** If we called 
the Four Gospels the Institution of a Christian Ministry , we might 
not go very far wrong, or lose sight of many of their essential 
qualities." The careful and even elaborate education given step by 


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228 Short Notices. April 

step to the Apostles — as a body in the Galilean ministry recorded by 
the first three evangelists, as individuals in that which is the special 
subject of S. John — is inexplicable unless our Lord was training 
them for an office, that is, for a permanent function in the Church. 
For Christ speaks of His Church ... as a kingdom . . . and a 
kingdom implies an abiding constitution. ... It was clearly our 
Blessed Lord's " plan '* . . . to employ the Apostles rather than Him- 
self as visible instruments of salvation. He might have made a 
multitude of converts all on the same level of equal relations with 
Himself; but He did not do so' {The One Religion^ p. 329). Con- 
sistently with this, Mr. Wordsworth adds, * To the Apostles especially 
He gave the assurance, " As My Father hath sent Me, even so send 
I you,"' and 'this assurance is implied in many places,' etc, 
* and He speaks of their ministry as lasting till His second coming ' 
(Luke xii. 42, 43). According to Dr. Westcott, the most important 
addresses relating to authority were really made to the Apostles not 
as an order, but as representing the whole future Church ; the 
special apostolate dwindles into a temporary arrangement for the 
time of our Lord's personal ministry : no wonder, therefore, on that 
hypothesis, that, on Easter-night, it practically dies. But we main- 
tain that in regard to the time just referred to, this is not the 
natural interpretation of the Gospel narrative ; and there can be no 
question that if the apostolate was on Easter-night extended to all 
believers, the proceedings of the Twelve in the Acts are unintelli- 
gible, and we might say unjustifiable. For they appear as the 
centre, the nucleus, the constitutive element, so to speak, out of 
and around which the Church's life is unfolded. It is of this that 
Mr. Gladstone says, *the Church began with a clergy; nay, began 
in a clergy : it had its centre of life, and of self-propagating power, 
in the Apostolic College' {Gleanings^ iii. 262). The Apostles act 
authoritatively and decisively as apostles, as supreme Church 
rulers under Christ, in virtue of a proper commission to themselves ; 
they treat *this ministry' of theirs as an abiding fact (Acts i 17, 
see Bp. Jacobson on Acts i. 23) ; they emphatically reserve to them- 
selves the appointment of the first deacons after the election of them 
has been made by the Church. Why say more? S. Luke has 
expressly interpreted the commands given by our Lord bet\\^een the 
Resurrection and the Ascension (he is clearly not thinking of such 
an order as those in John xx. 1 7, or Matt, xxviii. i o) as addressed to * the 
Apostles whom He had chosen.' He could not have spoken thus had 
he understood them as addressed to every believing soul. And it is 
he who has told us of the ol trvr avToiq, Moreover, on Dr. Westcott's 
showing, our Lord never did appoint any permanent ministry. A 
ministry grew out of the needs of the Christian society ; it was evolved 
from below by human delegation, not empowered from above by a 
Divine act of grace. It appears to us simply impossible to reconcile 
this hypothesis with Luke xii. 42 and Eph. iv. 11-13 ; and we need 
not dwell on the consideration that * had the ministry been left to grow 
up as a human afterthought, developed merely by social necessities, 
and receiving its commission from below ' (which, our readers will 

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i882. Short Notices. 229 

recollect, is Mr. Hatch's theory), * it is probable that Christ's perpetual 
presence in His Church would soon have been disparaged or denied. 
The sacraments might have remained as outwanl signs, but they 
would surely have been reduced ... to tessera of mutual fellowship * 
( WordswortSi, p. 33 1 ). The theory suggested by Dr. Westcott is indeed 
far-reaching ; if accepted, it would materially alter our whole con- 
ception of Christian ordinances, and it would deprive both minister 
and layman of those moral grounds of warning and of comfort which 
have never been so well exhibited as in Mr. Gladstone's Church 
Principles^ chap. v. 

In regard to * the priestly office of all Christians,' dwelt on, as 
Dr. Westcott says, by two chief Apostles (p. 83), we will only say that 
it is completely in harmony with such ministerial sacerdotalism as is 
involved in the idea of a stewardship, a ministry of reconciliation, 
appointed not by the 'society,' but by its Divine Head. On this 
point our readers may be referred to Dr. Liddon's sermon on * Sacer- 
dotalism '( C/«/V. Serm. ii. 198). 

Now as to the special words of the commission. We need not dwell 
on the affirmation in verse 21, of which Dr. Westcotfs theory would 
compel us to say that every baptized man and woman is sent by 
Christ as * He was sent by the Father.' Such a proposition, sufficientiy 
paradoxical in itself, is in our opinion refuted by the whole tenor of 
the Acts and the Epistles. We say nothing about the traditional 
voice of the Church. 'The very circumstances of the text,' says 
Bishop Andrewes, * do evict that tiie commission was not common to 
all Christians, for all Christians are not so sent' {Sermons^ v. 92). 
Then, how does Dr. Westcott interpret the words which follow? 
He says : 

* The message of the Gospel is the glad-tidings of sin conquered. To 
apply this to each man severally is the office of the Church, and so of 
each member of the Church. To embrace it personally is to gain abso- 
lution. As we in our different places bring home to the consciences of 
others the import of Christ's work, so far we set them free from the 
bondage in which they are held. ... He to whom the word comes can 
appropriate or reject the message of deliverance which we, as Christians, 
are authorized to bear. As he does so, we, speaking in Christ's name, 
eitiier remove the load by which he is weighed down, or make it more 
oppressive ' (p. 83). 

He had said before, *The power described deals with sin, and not 
with the punishment of sin. In essence, it has nothing to do with 

Now, we ask, in all seriousness, is this a fair interpretation of the 
Greek words? "Av nviatv a<l>fiT€ rag afiaprias, d^ui^rai (or aif^iwyrai) 
avToic • a I' Tit^u}i' upar^rc, KeKparrivTai. This is the text. Dr. WestCOtfs 
gloss is, When you set forth Christ as a Deliverer from sin, if A accepts 
your declaration and B rejects it, you remove the load from A's 
conscience and make it heavier on B's. If our Lord had meant this, 
assuredly He would have expressed this meaning in other words. 
He meant to be understood, we are sure ; He knew in what sense 
the phrase ' to remit sins,' and therefore in what sense the phrase * to 

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230 Short Notices. April 

retain sins/ would be taken by those who heard them. Apply this 
gloss to other texts in which the former phrase occurs, as, * Thy sins 
are forgiven thee/ Does this mean, ' I have presented the idea of 
deliverance from sin to thy conscience, and thou hast welcomed it, 
and so set thyself free ? ' Was this what the Jews declared to belong 
to an incommunicable Divine prerogative ? Was it this which the 
Son of Man proved Himself by miracle to be competent to perform ? 
We know well that no human absolver, on the ordinary view of the 
absolving power, acts otherwise than as a minister or instrument, 
whereas in the Word Incarnate, as Andrewes says, *the power is 
absolute and imperial;* but in both cases the usus ioquendi will refer 
the words to a real Divine pardon, not a mere acceptance of relief 
by the conscience. But this is not all. An interpretation is best 
tested by paraphrase. Suppose that to * remit ' and to * retain sins ' 
mean respectively to suggest deliverance from guilt to one who 
accepts or who declines the suggestion. What will then be the point 
of the dictum : Whoever profit by the opportunity for relieving their 
conscience which I now bid you offer, they do profit by it ; whoever 
reject it so as to increase their sense of guilt, they do so reject it? 
The antithesis between *ye remit' and *3iey are remitted' points 
clearly to a correspondence between the act of the envoy and the act 
of the Sovereign ; the latter is to confirm the former. * What you do 
in the matter, I will ratify.* But according to Dr. Westcott, the whole 
force of * remitting ' or ' retaining ' is exhausted by the effect which 
the announcement of the redemption necessarily has in virtue of the 
disposition of the hearers. They are relieved, or they are weighed 
down, according as they receive or reject the offer; and there is an 
end of it. We must needs say, with all respect to the high office of 
Professor Westcott, and to his own high endowments, that he has 
explained away this solemn passage in a fashion incompatible with 
true exegesis, and only accounted for by the supposition of a strong 
bias against * sacerdotalism.' The difficulty which many have found 
in the recitation of these Divine words by every ordaining bishop has 
arisen out of the conviction that they describe a power too great for 
uninspired men. Apostles, it is granted, might remit and retain sins; 
but how can ordinary priests ? Dr. Westcott's gloss would certainly 
alleviate these scruples ; but if we were to adopt it, we should fed 
bound to agitate for so much, at least, of Liturgical revision as would 
remove the sentence, ' Whose sins thou dost forgive,' etc., from the 
Ordinal, and insert it in the latter portion of the Baptismal Service. 
In its present place. Dr. Westcott must surely admit to himself, it is 
most seriously misleading. 

If it be said the bestowal of the Holy Spirit on those who were 
then * sent as the Father sent the Son,' and empowered to remit and 
retain sins, proves that this commission must be in its nature open to 
all Christians, we answer that this bestowal of the Holy Spirit differed 
from the Pentecostal gift : assuming that the fiery tongues descended 
on otfiers besides the Twelve. The preliminary gift looked back to 
that presence of the Holy Spirit which our Lord received when He 
entered on His own ministry. * Such as was the consecration of the 

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i882. Short Notices. 231 

Master, such was that of the disciples. . . . The gift or office cannot 
be named which belongs to our Lord as the Christ, which He did 
not, in its degree, transfer to His Apostles by the communication of 
that Spirit through which He Himself wrought ; one of course excepted, 
the one great work which none else in the whole world could sustain, 
of being the atoning Sacrifice ' (Newman's Sermonsy ii. 303). So 
Hooker, after quoting from Luke xxiv. 49 a promise of the Holy 
Spirit subsequent to the Easter commission, says ^ Undoubtedly it 
was some other effect of the Spirit . . . which our Saviour did then 
bestow ;' and he explains it from the context as a holy and a ghostly 
authority over the souls of men (-ff. P, v. 77. 7). 

We can hold that * the special duties, privileges, responsibilities, 
of the Christian ministry remain undiminished and undisparaged 
when we recognize the common priesthood of all believers as sharers 
in the life of the risen Lord, and charged to make known that which 
they have experienced ' (Westcott, p. 89), for we trace that ministry 
to Christ's own appointment ; whereas in his view, if we understand 
him aright, it is a creation of the Christian society. We cannot agree 
with him in thinking that * the greatest danger of the Church at present 
seems to be, not lest we should forget the peculiar functions of the 
ministerial office, but lest we should allow this to supersede the 
general power which it concentrates and represents in the economy of 
life.' To us, the tendencies of the age seem distinctly unfavourable 
to the idea of a real ministry ; the principle of Ordination is widely 
disparaged, the priesthood is even fiercely disowned, the popular 
conception of clerical functions is more and more assimilated to that 
of a moral police, and a Bampton lecturer accounts for the ministry 
on a theory of religious naturalism. As for the duty incumbent on 
all Christians of being witnesses for their Lord and Saviour, of en- 
deavouring to spread His truth, of 'interpreting to the world the 
lessons of the Passion and of the Resurrection,' we only wish it were 
more universally recognized ; but we would base it, not on a com- 
mission which, naturally interpreted, is ministerial, but on the fact 
of baptism and the vow of loyalty to Christ 

We have no space, nor, after what we have already said, is it 
necessary to discuss the subsequent commission of Matt, xxviii. 19. 
Dr. Westcott regards it as addressed to the * whole congregation of 
believers' (p. 157); and we suppose that the expression in a later 
chapter, * He bids His ministers proclaim His sovereignty over all 
the nations' (p. 177), must be regarded as an oversight, perhaps as a 
' survival.' 

It is with imfeigned regret that we have criticized what we believe 
to be a serious flaw in this eminent writer's exposition of the Paschal 
*Christophanies;' but it has seemed to us a simple duty to do so. 
We have not for a moment forgotten the great debt of gratitude which 
students of the New Testament owe to Dr. Westcott : a debt which 
is increased by the remaining portions of this volume. 

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232 Short Notices. April 

Concerning Spiritual Gifts. Three Addresses spoken to the Can- 
didates for Holy Orders in the Diocese of Ely, together with a 
Sermon preached on the following Sunday, before the Service of 
Ordination. By Francis Paget, M.A., Senior Student of 
Christ Church, Oxford ; Examining Chaplain to the Lord Bishop 
of Ely; and one of Her Majesty's Preachers at Whitehall. 
(Oxford : Parker & Co., 1881.) 

Mr. Paget in this little volume gives us a singularly thoughtful and 
refined exposition of the various Spiritual Gifts mentioned by S. Paul 
in I Cor. xii. 4-12, considering them as the requisite graces of the 
Priesthood He points out that they fall naturally into a threefold 
division, in which each class contains three gifts : and he deals 
with the first class, * the word of wisdom, the word of knowledge, 
and faith,' as marking a ^ miraculous enabling and enrichment of a 
man's true and eternal self ;' with the second, the * gifts of healing, 
works of miraculous powers, and prophecy,' as * primarily connected 
with the work of the clergy among such as are already members of 
Christ's Church ; ' with the third, * discerning of spirits, diverse kinds 
of tongues, and the interpretation of tongues,' as indicating the 
grace necessary for *our widest work in our dealings with all our 
fellow-men.' Mr. Paget enforces with much power and earnestness 
the practical necessity of each and all of these gifts in the work of the 
ministry. We might, but for his disclaimer of anything more than a 
* tentative ' application, question his explanation of the gifts of the 
third class, which are, he says, * diverse acts of one and the same 
enabling grace, the grace of true and spiritual sympathy.' Allowing 
this, however, we are not sure that, even yet, our clergy need to be 
checked, rather than encouraged, in sympathizing and co-operating 
with the * public movements and efforts which he outside the nar- 
rowest conceptions of the clerical office.' We hope we are not 
misrepresenting Mr. Paget's opinion ; it is chiefly tie arrangement 
of his third address, the fact that he ends with a warning against 
temerity rather than inaction in such matters, that leaves us with an 
impression that he does not, in general, wish the clergy to be promi- 
nent in sympathy or co-operation with 'social movements.' And this, 
we cannot but think, is not a well-timed caution. But we should be 
sorry to imply that our prevailing impression of these addresses is 
one of criticism. On the contrary, they seem to us to present, in 
language of appropriate beauty and refinement, thoughts of great 
delicacy of insight, and at the same time of great depth. But beyond 
this we feel in them something of a very rare quality, viz., a profound 
spiritual earnestness and reality, the marks of a mind full of reverence 
and awe in presence of the responsibilities and privileges of the 
priesthood. This is a quality which must be felt to be understood ; 
but it must have been felt by those who heard these addresses, and 
must have been most helpful to them at the time of their preparation 
for their solemn calling. It leads Mr. Paget to lay stress on the 
work, not on the result of the work : * each one of us,' he says in a 
striking image, * can be at the very utmost only like some mason, 

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i882. Short Notices. 233 

who, in the six centuries which passed between the conception and 
the achievement of the great Cathedral of Germany, may have given 
his life to the elaboration of some single detail in that unnumbered 
wealth of ornament, and left to far-off generations the hope of 
wondering at the perfect work/ A spirit trained to humility and 
loyalty by such thoughts is the right spirit for those who are to share 
in the overpowering work of the ministry, and we are grateful to Mr. 
Paget for giving others the opportunity of profiting by the tone of 
deep reverence in which he speaks of sacred things, and the spiritual 

The New Man and the Eternal Life, By Andrew Jukes. 
(London : Longmans and Co., 1881.) 

This is a commentary on those twelve sayings of our Lord in S. 
John's Gospel, which He prefaces with the word *Amen,' whether 
singly or repeated Such as are familiar with the author's former 
works, entitled Types of Genesis and Law of the Offerings in Leviticus^ 
will be prepared 10 find in this volume the same remarkable qualities 
that distinguished them; qualities best described, perhaps, in the 
beautiful verses on Origen in Lyra Apostolica. For it is with Origen 
in his strength, it may also be in his weakness, that Mr. Jukes as a 
theologian shows the strongest affinities, and then with Richard of S. 
Victor among the mediaeval mystics. The reader need not look for 
textual criticism or literal exegesis, both of them articles of which 
the current supply is if anything in excess of the demand ; but he will 
find, as almost nowhere else, profound devotional reflections teeming 
throughout the whole volume, and often giving unexpected vitality 
of meaning to passages which have been possibly somewhat over- 
looked even by pious and intelligent students of Holy Writ. 

Mr. Jukes holds that the twelve * Amen ' sayings, however dis- 
sociated from each other in the sacred text, and however diverse 
the occasions on which they were severally uttered, really are inti- 
mately connected with each other, and designedly form an orderly 
whole, embodying a progressive course of teaching on the deepest 
mysteries of the faith. In a brief introductory chapter Mr. Jukes 
explains his theory of the Amens. The first * Verily, verily ' (S. 
John L 51) he views as revealing the home of the new man, the 
opening of the long shut heavens ; the second (S. John iii. 3, 5), as 
showing the only way to this home, through the new birth ; the 
third (S. John v. 19-22) declares the law of tfiis new life of the new 
man ; the fourth (S. John vi. 26-58) tells us of his meat^ the bread 
which comes down from heaven ; the fifth (S. John viii. 31-35) shows 
what is his special liberty^ to be free from sin \ the sixth (S. John viii. 
48-58) declares his divinity and his right to say * I am;' the seventh 
(S. John X. 1-18) describes his service as the Good Shepherd who 
dies for his sheep ; the eighth (S. John xii. 24-26) more fully opens 
his sacrifice and its results ; the ninth (S. John xiii. 1-32) tells of his 
lowliness and its uses in the cleansing of disciples and the glorifying 
of God ; the tenth (S. John xiv. 8-14) shows his glory and his 
revelation of God ; the eleventh (S. John xvi. 16-25) shows us his 

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234 Short Notices. April 

sorrow axid joy ; while the twelfth and last (S. John xxL 15-23) tells 
of \)i& perfecting. 

From this syllabus some slight notion of the mode of treatment 
can be gathered, but it would require copious extracts, for which the 
needful space is not here available, to do adequate justice to Mn 
Jukes's manner of handling his subject, which compels admiration 
from the emotional side of a religious nature, even when the harder 
intellect is compelled to charge him with being too fancifully tropo- 
logical in his gloss. 

Onesitnus, Memoirs of a Disciple of S, Paul By the Author of 
Philochristus. (London : Macmillan, 1882.) 

It would have been impossible for any one who had read that 
very remarkable book, Philochristus^ to take up another work by the 
same author, and designed to be a sequel to it, without very high 
expectations ; and in our case certainly these expectations were not 
disappointed. There is no falling off in the attraction, we may almost 
say the fescination, of the second part There is the same charm of 
style, the same power of description, the same deep spirit of piety, 
breathing through the reflections ; but also, we are constrained to 
add, as we might have expected, the same dangerous tendencies. 
Of these more hereafter. The scope of Onesimus is wider than of 
Philochristus, It is an attempt not merely to delineate the social life 
and domestic institutions of the Roman Empire in the first century 
of the Christian era, in which the cruelty, the corruption, and the misery 
of a decaying Heathenism are most vividly portrayed, but also to 
reproduce the doubts and questionings which agitated men's minds, 
and to exhibit the various superstitions and systems of philosophy 
which Christianity had to encounter. Though, as we are informed, 
the descriptions of these are taken from writers of a somewhat later 
period, yet doubtless the author is justified in assuming * that these 
thoughts must have been in the air throughout Asia as early as a.d. 
60, though they did not find expression in extant books till some time 
later.' The work is thrown into the form of an autobiography, evi- 
dently formed in some degree on the model of the Confessions of S, 
AugustinCy and containing many passages not unworthy of the great 

Onesimus is, of course, the slave of Philemon, to whom we are 
indebted for the Epistle to Philemon, He tells us that he and his 
twin-brother, Chrestus, having been exposed as babes in the Temple 
of Asclepius at Pergamus, with no mark by which they could be 
recognized but two silver seals inscribed with *I love' and * Trust 
me ' respectively, were adopted by a rich lady, who had lost her own 
child, and by her brought up with every care and attention, and 
well educated, at Lystra. There, when ten years old, he heard the 
Apostle Paul preach, and witnessed his cure of the lame man ; and 
words addressed to him by the Apostle when he was brought with 
other children for a blessing — * The Lord be unto thee as a Father, 
little one' — made an impression which was never effaced. 

But when sixteen years of age he lost his adopted mother, 

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i882. Short Notices. 235 

Ammiane, who had been for years a widow, and then had experience 
of one of the most cruel evils of the system of slavery, both in ancient 
and modem times. He and his brother had never been formally 
enfranchised, and were legally in the position of slaves, and as such 
came into the possession of Nicander, the heir-at-law, a man of brutal 
•character, who carried them off with him to Tyana. There they were 
put up for sale, and Onesimus's violence at the prospect of separation 
irom his brother, who was sold to go to Rome, led to his being sent 
away in chains to work at the quarries amidst a gang of the most 
<iegraded criminals — monsters rather than men. The account of the 
cruel treatment of the slaves in the 'ergastulum' is,* we are told, 
borrowed from Apuleius, and not ^imaginary. At the end of two 
years of misery, the death of Nicander led to his release and to his 
being sold to Philemon of Colossae as an amanuensis, for which his 
education had fitted him. 

Philemon was not yet a Christian, but a man of literary tastes and 
an inquiring disposition, whose house was the rendezvous of several 
philosophers. Onesimus, though still a slave, lived on a footing of 
equality with his master, and was admitted to their discussions, in 
which he took much interest. An opportunity is thus given of 
introducing the views of different schools of philosophy. Artemidorus, 
we are told in a note, represents the opinions of Celsus, the sceptical 
opponent of Christianity in the beginning of the second century, and 
the real father of its opponents in the nineteenth. Similarly Nicostratus 
represents Maximus of Tyre ; Oneirocritus, Aristides. After a time 
Onesimus goes with his master to Antioch, and there they are both 
much impressed with what they hear of Christian doctrine, and still 
more with what they see of Christian lives. Meanwhile, in the form 
of a long correspondence with Artemidorus, occupying the third 
part of the fourth book, every argument against the truth of 
Christianity and Christian miracles is urged in the most telling 
manner, in order to dissuade Onesimus from becoming a Christian. 
Though Onesimus wrote much in defence of the Christian teaching, 
yet, as he says of himself— 

' I was very far from following the Lord, yea and perhaps all the farther 
that I had learned to talk admiringly of Him as of a man on a level 
with Socrates, and Pythagoras, and others. For this kind of admiration 
took up that place in my heart which should have been filled by faith or 
trust, and left no room for them. Nor indeed was I at that time fit to 
come to the Saviour, because my eyes were not yet open to discern my 
own sins so as to desire forgiveness, for the Saviour calls unto himself 
the weary and heavy laden, but I was not yet weary enough, nor felt as 
yet the burden of my sinfulness. ... 

* I erred in the pride of my heart, because I preferred the wisdom of 
the Greeks to the wisdom of the Lord Jesus. Therefore didst thou, O 
All- Wise, permit me to have my heart's desire, and to serve the Greek 
Philosophy, and to take that yoke on my neck, that I might prove it 
and know it, whether that service were freedom indeed, and then didst 
Thou make me pass through the dark valley of affliction, and didst suffer 
my wandering steps to stumble and sink in the mire of wickedness, to 
the intent that I might understand at last that the Wisdom of the Greeks, 

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236 Short Notices. April 

for all the beauty of it, and the pleasant sound of it. has no power to lift up 
a drowning soul from the deep waters of sin.' 

From Antioch Onesimus and his master went on to Jerusalem, 
where both were rather repelled by the narrowness of the Jewish 
Christians; but a longer stay was prevented by the illness of 
Philemon's wife, and they sailed from Csesarea to Ephesus. On the 
voyage a storm drove them into the Piraeus, where they lodged with 
Molon, a rhetorician, and when Philemon returned to Colossa& 
Onesimus was left behind for a time to study and improve himself 
This led to his falling in love with Molon*s daughter, Eucharis, and 
writing to Philemon to ask him to emancipate him, as he had promised 
to do, that he might marry her. Philemon's reply was a summons 
to return immediately to Colossae, where he found that his master had 
joined the Christians, and objected to his marriage with Eucharis as 
a heathen, but offered to emancipate him on condition of his marry- 
ing a wife whom he had selected for him at Colossse. This Onesimus 
refused, and owing to his master's conduct in this and other respects, 
conceived a great prejudice against Christianity. The breach with his 
master was increased by the artifices of a fellow-slave, who accused 
him of stealing. The news of the death of Eucharis coming at this 
time so upset him that he attempted to commit suicide, and was only • 
saved by his master's entrance. 

Stung to madness by reproaches which Philemon addressed to him, 
he sprung on him and wounded him with his own stilus. He was of 
course immediately seized and put in confinement, but managed to 
escape by night, carrying off his master's purse with a large sum of 
money. When hiding in the mountains he fell in with a wandering 
priest of Cybele, leader of a troop of dancers. With them he joined 
company, and sank for a time into the lowest stage of riotous and 
unclean living, till they came to Pergamos. There he chanced to 
learn from the priest of Asclepius that some months before his mother 
had come to inquire of him for her twin sons who had been exposed 
many years before, describing them by the tokens which Onesimus and 
his brother Chrestus had had on. This circumstance gave a new turn 
to his thoughts, and roused him for a time from his dissolute life ; 
but before long, haunted by fear of capture by Philemon, he left 
Pergamos and went to Corinth, and thence to Rome, supporting 
himself as a lo»v actor or buffoon. 

It was thus that he fell in with the Apostle Paul, whom he 
recognized in his prison as the man who had blessed him in his child- 
hood at Lystra. Though he endeavoured to harden his heart, he 
could not resist his influence. There seemed a spell on him which 
led him against his intentions to go and listen to the Apostle's preach- 
ing at the house of Tryphena and Tryphosa, when he was converted 
and passed from darkness to light. After his baptism he returned to 
Colossse to Philemon, and was received by him as a brother, and 
before long appointed to labour with him in the ministry. 

Once again he goes to Rome, hearing that S. Paul was under 
sentence of death (S. Peter having been executed), that he might see 
him before he died. With some difficulty he finds him in one of 

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i882. Short Notices. 237 

the dungeons of the Palace, more dead than alive from the treatr 
ment which he had received. But the Apostle, revived by the food 
which Onesimus had brought, is able to converse with him, and to 
tell him the story of his life. Then, as the time drew near for his 
execution, the Apostle says to Onesimus : * Now, my son, because 
the time is short, let us make haste to be with Christ a while, and 
with all the company of the Saints, both the blessed ones that have 
gone to rest before us and those that have remained below.' 

* Then ' — Onesimus continues — * he took of the bread and wine 
which I had brought, and when he had broken and blessed, we 
ate and drank, and the Apostle called on the Lord in prayer/ and 
afterwards bade him farewell. 

In the eighth book Onesimus takes up his history again, some 
time after the destruction of Jerusalem. He relates how he had 
been to Britain to see Philochristus, in order to hear tidings of 
his mother from a former nurse, a slave in the household of Pomponia. 
Seven years he remained with Philochristus in Britain, and then 
returned in the time of Domitian's persecution to take the place of 
the martyred Bishop of Csesarea. Two years after, having gone to 
Smyrna, he was there seized by the Proconsul, and cast into a dungeon, 
and thrown to the wild beasts together with Trophimus. The nar- 
rative of this martyrdom is taken from that of S. Perpetua. It will 
be clear from this mere outline of the autobiography, that the author 
has a wide scope for the exercise of his powers of description and 
delineation of character. It is no easy matter to clothe the dry bones 
of a bygone age with real flesh and blood, and to bring the living 
characters before our eyes. We think that even in a field where 
John Mason Neale, Cardinal Newman, and others of equal note, have 
tried their hand, the writer of Onesimus is by no means the least 
successful He is thoroughly familiar with the history and literature 
of the period which he treats, and succeeds in giving his readers an 
insight into the spirit of the times without any pedantic display of 

But the question that immediately concerns us is this — ^What is 
the end which the author proposes to himself? Is it merely to give 
us a vivid picture of the doubts and questionings of the first century, 
or has he throughout an eye to the nineteenth ? And if the latter, 
what are the views which he is anxious to promote ? What is his own 
theological standpoint ? We may say at once, that, very reluctantly 
and after much carefiil consideration, we have come to the conclusion 
that the object of the book, very consistently pursued, is to eliminate 
the supernatural element from the Gospel narrative as regards miracles 
and prophecies, or at any rate to minimize it. On our first reading, 
at least till we came to the eighth book, we were disposed to take a 
more favourable view, and to hope that the writer of Philochristus 
was working his way to a more definite belief. 

There are many passages which favour such a view, which it is only 
fair to quote, — showing, if words mean anything, an acknowledgment 
of our Lord's Divinity and of the Resurrection. Of course in a work 
of this kind, where different opinions are represented as held by 

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238 Short Notices. April 

diiferent speakers, it is important to know with which of the * dramatis 
personse' the writer is to be identified. One naturally assumes that 
it is with Onesimus himself, especially when Onesimus adopts the 
opinions of S. Paul or of Philochristus. 

This is what he says of Philochristus : — * In all his discourses 
he spoke of the Lord Jesus as being verily a man in all points, sin only 
excepted — subject, as men are subject, to both pain and death, but 
none the less as being the Beginning and Goal of human life, the 
Eternal love of God, spiritually begotten of God before the foundation 
of the world.' And of S. Paul's teaching : — * In all his doctrine he 
made mention of the Resurrection of the Lord Jesus as being the 
foundation of the whole Gospel, and the seal of its truth.' * Strive 
thou earnestly to keep pure and undefiled that truth which is the 
source and foundation of the rest, that Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of 
God, hath manifested to us the love of the Father through Himself, 
and that he, having verily risen from the dead, reigneth in Heaven, 
and helps his Saints on earth' (p. 253). And again in his own 
person. * Between these two errors — some denying that the Lord 
Jesus was Divine, and others denying that he was human — the Church 
was marvellously guided by the hand of the Lord to hold fast the 
true belief, namely, that he was both human and divine.' * Thus by 
the Spirit it was revealed even to the simplest and meanest of the 
brethren that in Christ Jesus God and man are joined together.' 

It is painful, after such language, to have to suggest any doubt as 
to the writer's belief * in the literal resurrection of the human body of 
Jesus,' *a denial of which,' as Canon Liddon observes, * involves 
nothing less than an absolute and total rejection of Christianity.'' 
This certainly was the case with Philochristus^ and it is the impression 
left on our mind by the general tenor of the language used, that he 
considers the appearances of our Lord after his resurrection to have 
been rather of the nature of phantasms presented to the minds of 
impressionable women in a state bordering on ecstasy. 

Assuming his belief in the literal reality of the Resurrection, it is 
difficult to understand his evident desire to get rid as much as pos- 
sible of the miraculous element from the Gospel ; for, as Dr. Liddoii 
has said, * If the Resurrection be admitted as a fact, it is puerile to 
object to the other miracles of Jesus.' It is not our province, how- 
ever, to defend his logical consistency, but it is quite clear that the 
tendency of all he writes is to raise a suspicion that the miracles 
recorded in our present Gospels did not for the most part form a 
portion of the original record, but were subsequent additions to gratify 
the appetite for the marvellous. The words attributed to Artemidorus 
seem to express his own view (p. 95) : — 

* It is beyond all question that in a few years, if not already, the 
believers in this new faith will have clothed or embellished the life of 
their leader with all manner of wonders, which in itself it had not. And 
already I discern this process of clothing in the beginning and first 
endeavour. For whereas your Lucius preaches about the Star of Judah 
shining, and the preparing a table in the wilderness, and the stilling of 
" le storm by Him whose path is on the deep waters, and the testimony of 

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i882. Short Notices. 239 

Moses and Elias on the right hand and on the left of Christus, and the giving 
of the bread of life, and the living water, I doubt not but that these and 
many other figures and metaphors eidier are, or speedily will be, so 
interlaced with the tradition of the life of Christus, that his followers will 
soon believe that he did really and actually walk upon the waves, and 
bestow upon them miraculous water, and wine, and bread; yea, and that 
a special star shone forth at his birth, and that Moses and Elias did really 
appear on his right hand and left, bearing testimony to him, and a thousand 
other portents.' 

Onesimus, in answer to his question concerning the wonders 
said to have been wrought by Christus, replies : — 

^ That in the Tradition almost all the works are works of healing, and 
all to be explained according to nature, saving some four or five, and 
these four or five seem to me to have arisen from figures of speech, or 
prophecies, or hyperbole. For example, the tradition contains already 
that story of the casting out of the swine from the demoniac, whereof you 
wrote to me, but diversely reported, some saying that it happened at a 
placed called Gerasa, but others at Gadara.' 

Of the Transfiguration and voice at our Lord's baptism he says : — 
* I know not whether it is not fitter to set it down as a vision or 
waking dream than as an error springing from a figure of speech.' 
Of the stilling of the storm, he cannot say whether it has sprung from 
metaphor misunderstood, or from some phantasm apparent to the 
fishermen. The two feedings of the multitude he judges to have 
sprung altogether from metaphor ; the cursing and withering of the 
barren fig-tree to have been a misconstruing by the Christians of the 
parable of the barren fig-tree. Again he says — * Whereas the ancient 
books of the Jews contain two accoimts how prophets raised up them 
that were dead, the Tradition has no such relation, except concerning 
a little child who had but a few minutes been pronounced dead, and 
in whom doubtless the life was not extinct* And he goes on to relate 
how, in an argument with Jews who maintained the superiority of 
Elisha's miracle, a Christian made shift to reply that it was reported 
at Ephesus that Christus had raised up a man that was dead and 
carried out to burial, to which the Jew rejoined that if Christus had 
been greater than Elisha, he would have gone beyond this and raised 
up one that had been dead and buried three or four days. The 
Christians were disturbed that they had no relation to bring forward of 
one raised after being some days buried, but Onesimus adds, * Methinks 
before many years some such tradition as this is likely to find a place 
in the traditions of the sect.' 

Here then we have a theory of the genesis of miracles or myths. 
It may be said that these are not the views of the writer ; but some 
additional light is thrown on the subject by a note (p. 309) in which, 
for further information on the nature of the Tradition mentioned by 
Onesimus, we are referred to an article on the Gospels in the new 
edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, 

We turn to the article, and we find such passages as the follow- 
ing :— 

' The first two supernatural narratives peculiar to S. Luke suggest to 
many minds a symbolical interpretation, and raise the question wheUier 

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240 Short Notices. April 

they, and possibly some of the other miracles, may be emblematic rather 
than historical. Luke's other principal miracle is also considered by 
many to have arisen from metaphor misunderstood. 

' Many will be so far influenced by the extraordinary beauty of the 
story (of the widow's son at Nain), and perhaps by the fact that the 
custom of early burial among the Jews might reduce this, like the case of 
Jairus' daughter, to the level of natural though marvellous events, as to 
believe tlra.t we have in it not legend, but history.' 

And with reference to the casting out the Legion of Devils — 
* It has been suggested that this extremely difficult narrative may 
have arisen from a misunderstanding of the phenomena of possession.* 
But it is perhaps more likely that the variation in the name of the 
place points to some misunderstanding as to the origin of the story/ 

We do not think we are doing injustice to the author in assuming 
that Onesimus throughout expresses his own sentiments. The general 
tendency of the whole of the eighth book is to throw doubt on the 
Gospel narrative, outside what he calls the Tradition, or the matter 
common to the three Synoptic Gospels (p. 272). For instance, 
Onesimus coming back to Rome after seven years' absence in Britain, 
finds that the beliefs of which he had written to Artemidorus as being 
currently reported among the faithful, but not yet added to the Tra- 
dition, were accepted by all He borrows copies of the three Gospels, 
and finds least addition of wonders and other doubtful matters in the 
Gospel said by most to have been written according to the teaching 
of Marcus, * only in some two or three passages figures of speech 
appeared to have been interpreted according to the letter.' * But 
the other two books, though they contained most excellent traditions, 
very full and ample, of certain words of the Lord, had added supple- 
ments touching the birth of the Lord Jesus and his childhood and 
youth, and also concerning his manifestations after his rising from the 
dead, which were not known to me.' So he writes to Philochristus in 
Britain, asking his judgment on the three books which he sends him. 
Philochristus replies in words full of significance : — 'They contain 
relations of certain matters whereof I neither saw nor heard aught 
while I followed the Lord Jesus in Galilee ; nor have I heard ought 
of them from the disciples^ nor from the Lord's brethren, nor from the 
Mother of the Lord. Nevertheless it is possible that they may have 
been revealed to the disciples after my coming to this island ; ' and 
he counsels him to go to Ephesus and question John, the disciple of 
the Lord. * For if neither he nor I know aught of these new tradi- 
tions, then it is likely that they are not according to truth ; but if he 
consent unto them, then they are without doubt true.' But supposing 
he could not learn from S. John, he was not to be troubled overmuch. 

' The exact truth, it may be, thou shalt never find out in this life, but 
thy duty to thy brethren thou canst certainly find out. I say not that 
thou in thy doctrine and preaching should teach or even assent to these 
new traditions ; but what I say is this, that if the worship of the Lord 
Jesus be enwrapped (among the unlearned) in some integument of 
doubtful tradition which commendeth itself to the brethren because they 

^ Compare the Letter of Artemidorus, p. 97. 

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|882. Short Notices. 241 

cannot easily believe thai he worked mightily in the Spirit unless they 
also believe that he wrought mighty works according to the fleshy then I 
say it needeth not, nor is fit, that thou shouldest spend thy time in rend- 
ing this integument asunder, but rather that thou shouldest labour to 
teach the main truth. 

' But thou sayest that " a time may come when these traditions shall 
be found to be false, and then the common people finding a part of the 
tradition of the acts of the Lord to be false, will cast aside th<i whole as 
a mere fable.*' Well and wisely is this said ; yet have I faith in truth, and 
whensoever the danger whereof thou speakest shall press upon the Church, 
then I doubt not but the Lord, who is also the truth, shall raise up teachers 
that have skill to sift the true from the false.' 

Onesimus is prevented for two years from going to S. John, but 
then * craving after certainty concerning the additions to the Tradi- 
tion ' he sets out to see the Apostle, who is still alive, but on his way 
he suffers martyrdom at Smyrna, and consequently no certainty is to 
be obtained, and so the matter is left with a decided presumption 
against the truth of the larger part of the Gospel narrative and an 
explaining away of the supernatural element even in that portion. 

The author evidently considers that he is one of the * teachers 
raised up with skill to sift the true from the false,' with the honest 
conviction (as we fully admit) that by surrendering the miraculous 
element in the Gospels he shall save the rest Vain delusion I 

We have exhausted our limits, but feel bound to strengthen the 
position we have taken, by referring to his method of dealing with 
the conversion of S. Paul in a narrative purporting to be given by 
the Apostle himself to Onesimus. To us his whole conception of the 
character of Saul before his conversion — as one struggling against 
conviction and trying to stifle the voice of conscience — seems utterly 
inconsistent with the Apostle's account of himself; but, be this as it 
may, what we chiefly complain of is the evident desire in all the 
imaginary details to. lead up, so to speak, to his conversion, so as to 
make this but the last of a series of impressions on Saul's mind, and 
as much as possible get rid of its objective reality. 

These are the words which he puts into the mouth of the Apostle 
after describing his conflicts of mind : — 

' We journeyed slowly, for the burden of the Lord was grievous upon 
me, and my eyes, which were infirm by nature, were now more than ever 
dimmed and dazzled^ so that I could scarcely endure the light of day. 
Likewise by night evil dreams departed not from me. Now also me- 
thought I began to hear a strange voice, yet as it were in my heart and 
not in my ears, accusing me as if some one reasoned with me ; accusing 
me that I had slain Stephanus without cause. . . . 

* By this time we were come unawares within sight of Damascus ; 
and I looking afar ofl* upon the pleasant gardens that encompassed the 
city, rejoiced greatly, because here, I said, 1 shall have rest from my 
weariness, and here these voices of Satan will cease from troubling me. 
But even as I spake thus within my soul, the Voice came to me much 
louder than before, and not once but many times : " Wilt thou yet con- 
tinue this course of blood ? Wilt thou again shed innocent blood ? 
Wilt thou yet kick against the goad of die truth?" Then I made 
answer, " Yes, I will continue ; " and these words I repeated again and 

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242 Short Notices. April 

again. Then suddenly the hand of the Lord fell on me, my body seem- 
ing on fire as well as my soul, and my eyes not knowing whither to turn 
for pain, and at last I could no longer contain myself for the sore agony 
of my doubting, but said aloud (yet not so that my companions could 
hear), "If now that deceiver Stephanus were no deceiver, if — and 
behold I looked up to heaven as Stephanus had looked, and lo, a bright- 
ness indeed, as of the glory of God ; and a voice no longer in my soul 
but in my ears also penetrating to my soul, and saying, "Saul, Saul, 
why persecutest thou me ? " Then I fell upon my face, knowing who it 
was that spoke, yet constrained to ask as though I knew not, and I 
said, "Who art thou, Lord?" And he said, "I am Jesus whom thou 
persecutest,** * &c., &c. 

We may observe that all mention of S. Paul's companions is care- 
fully omitted, and a stress is laid on the state of his eyes before he 
saw the light from heaven. So in the subsequent account of the 
visit of Ananias, instead of his sight being at once restored, as we 
are told in the Acts, we read, * presently I began to see a little^ and 
in no very long space I was made whole and received my sight as 

The evident animus, as we have said, of the whole, is to minimize 
the supernatural element without positively denying it. 

Here we must take our leave of OnesimuSy and we can only 
express our regret that a work so full of interest, so devout in tone, 
should yet be, rather in the impression which it is calculated to leave, 
than in its direct teaching, of so dangerous a character as tending to 
destroy all belief in supernatural religion. 

Books on the Revised New Testament. 

1 . Should the Revised New Testament be Authorized ? By Sir Edmund 

Beckett, Bart., LL.D., Q.C., F.R.A.S., Chancellor and Vicar- 
General of York. (London : John Murray, 1882.) 

2. The Quarterly Review^ No. 305. (London : John Murray.) 

3. Efy Lectures on the Revised Version of the New Testament, with an 

Appendix containing the Chief Textual Changes, By B. H. 
Kennedy, D.D., Canon of Ely, and Hon. Fellow of St John's 
College, Cambridge. (London : Richard Bentley and Son, 1882.) 

4. A Word on the Revised Version of the Netv Testament, By the 

Rev. W. G. Humphry, B.D. (London: S.P.C.K., 1881.) 
^ 5. Otium Norvicense, Pars Tertia. Notes on Select Passages of the 
Greek Testament, chiefly with reference to Recent English Ver- 
sions. By Frederick Field, M.A., LL.D., Hoa Fellow of 
Trinity College, Cambridge. (Oxford, 1881.) 
I. Sir Edmund Beckett's book *is not meant for a general review 
of the Revised Version, but only for an examination of its claim to 
be authorized for public use.' He acknowledges 'its value as a 
commentary of a particular kind,' but maintains that * the enormous 
number of alterations which convict themselves of being unnecessary, 
since everybody can see that they involve no change of meaning,' and 
the fact that the Revisers 'have hardly ever changed a sentence without 
spoiling its English, sometimes by the smallest touch or transposition 
of a word and still more by the larger alterations,' are entirely fatal 

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i882. Short Notices. 243 

to its claim to be authorized for public use in our churches. In order 
to prove his point he selects for detailed criticism S. Matthew's 
Gospel, the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the Apocalypse, and goes 
through them — 

* noticing the alterations which seem material enough for special criti- 
cism, but necessarily passing by a multitude of others which only fall 
under the general remark that they are unnecessaiy on the face of them, 
as they involve no difference of sense, and spoil the old version for 
nothing except the abstract satisfaction of construing a few Greek words 
more literally or more uniformly.' 

The fullest criticism of the Revised Version is most desirable, and 
the method adopted is reasonable. But the criticisms are of the most 
hasty and shallow description, as we shall proceed to show. Sir 
Edmund Beckett * does not pretend to be much of a scholar,' and is 

* only furbishing up a rusty old sword for this easy job.' If he had 
had the decency to treat tiie * job ' of criticizing the work of a body 
of the best Greek scholars and divines in the country with common 
respect, he would at least have deserved a patient hearing. Any 
individual is entitled to his own opinion as to whether the reasons 
for change in any given case were adequate or inadequate ; but he 
is not entitled to assert that there is no reason for change when a 
moment's reflection and the use of a concordance would have shown 
the reasons which actuated the Revisers. 

We proceed to examine a few specimens of his criticism, in order 
to show their superficial character. First, let us consider one of his 
examples of * spoiled rh)rthm : ' — 

* Matt. i. 23. — ** Which is, being interpreted, God with us," instead of 
** which being interpreted is, God with us," illustrates the capacity of the 
Revisers for spoiling sentences with the smallest possible exertion, and for 
no visible object Here the mere transposition of that little " is " makes 
all the difference between a lively, solemn, and harmonious sentence, and 
one as flat, inharmonious and pedantic as a modem Act of Parliament or 
the Revisers' preface. It is also a minor defect that it requires attention 
to the stops on each side of ** being interpreted " to avoid reading it as 
** being in course of interpretation." ' 

We shall not presume to arbitrate between the relative merits of 
the two renderings. We merely wish to point out that the Act of Par- 
liament English and obnoxious commas are really due to the trans- 
lators of 161 1, who are generally supposed to have been masters of 
English style. The phrase occurs in five other passages only (Mark 
V. 41 ; XV. 22, 34 ; John i. 41 ; Acts iv. 36), and in all of them the 
rendering of 161 1 is, ^whichy being interpreted^ isJ* The Revisers 
therefore were merely assimilating the rendering in S. Matthew to die 
usage of the Authorized Version elsewhere, and if wrong, may be 
pardoned for having been misled by its authority. 

Next let us examine one of Sir Edmund Beckett's instances of 
' unnecessary change.* 

' S. Matt iiL 3, 4. — Why is " make ye ready the way of the Lord " 
any better than " prepare ye the way of the Lord" ? Can they pre- 
tend that such a change was necessary to correct any plain and clear 

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244 Short Notices. April 

error ? ' If he had taken the trouble to turn to the parallel passage 
in S. Mark i. 2, 3, he would have found that the Revisers had to find 
some way of representing two different Greek words for * prepare,' a 
distinction causelessly obliterated by the Authorized Version ; and if 
he had further turned to S. Luke i. 17, he would have found words 
expressing the distinction ah*eady used in the Authorized Version. 
The change, far from being unnecessary, is absolutely demanded by 
the most moderate depee of faithfulness to the original, and brings 
out an interesting comcidence between the words in which the 
Baptist's mission was described by the angel to Zacharias, and the 
prophetic language in which his mission was foretold. It is not 
without interest to notice that the Revisers have here restored the 
rendering of Wiclif. 

We pass on to consider one or two of the cases which are adduced 
to prove the Revisers' violation of English idiom. The use of the 
article in * the sower went forth to sow' (Matt. xiii. 3, 7) is condemned 
as un-English. Here, it is true. Sir Edmund Beckett can quote the 
weighty support of the Bishop of Lincoln. But siurely a rendering 
which stands in Tyndale and in the Great Bible can hardly be con- 
demned as bad Enghsh. In English, no less than in Greek, the 
article may serve to define and individualize the sower who is pictured 
in the parable, though no doubt an ordinary writer of English would 
not employ the article in such a case. 

Again, on the rendering, *When Herod's birthday came, the 
daughter of Herodias danced in the midst' (Matt. xiv. 7), his com- 
ment is : — 

* Would any human being say that in English, except a small boy in 
a school-room ? . . . Perhaps the Authorized Version might as well have 
said " before them all^^ but that is no excuse for substituting such a piece 
of bald and ugly literalism as " dancing in the midst," not even " of 
them," which would have been rather more tolerable.' 

Perhaps the phrase is a somewhat bald one, but the Revisers can 
scarcely be severely blamed for using it when it is employed more 
than once in the Authorized Version as a rendering of the same 
Greek words (S. John viii. 3, 9, cp. xx. 19, 26). 

We must trouble our readers with one more example of this 
superficial style of criticism. *S. Matt. xxviL 50.— -They alter 
"yielded up the ghost" (Authorized Version) to "yielded up his 
spirit," TO xicv/^a. The words mean absolutely the same (in this 
sense), but one is good old idiomatic Enghsh still in use ; the odier 
a thing never said by any human being.' For our own part we can- 
not see why * yielded up his spirit' is not at least as good English as 
* yielded up the ghost,' an expression which no modem writer would 
think of using ; and the new rendering brings out the striking con- 
nexion bet^'een the Lord's cry recorded by S. Luke, ' Father, into 
Thy hands I commend my spirit,' and the language used by S. 
Matthew and S. John to describe His death. Surely the words 
employed by these Evangelists (a^^icc to irvevfia — irapi^wKe to vvevfia) 
were deliberately chosen to express His voluntary yielding up of that 
spirit which He had just commended to His Father's charge. Yet 

Digitized by 


i882. Short Notices. 245 

the link of connexion is invisible to the reader of the Authorized 
Version, and, if the Revisers' change is condemned, must remain so. 

These are fair samples of the random and hasty character of the 
criticisms contained in this work. We should not have thought it 
worth while to comment on them at length, did we not feel strongly 
the importance of a fair hearing being given to the Revised Version, 
and did we not fear that readers who cannot check Sir Edmund 
Beckett's statements by constant and careful reference to the original 
Greek, might be misled by the dogmatic tone of authority with which 
he writes. Some of his criticisms no doubt have strong arguments 
in their favour ; but we wish to make it clear to our readers that his 
assertions that rhythm is bad, that idiom is un-English, or that altera- 
tions are causeless, must never be accepted without careful scrutiny 
and verification. 

2. The Quarterly Reviewer is much at one with Sir Edmund 
Beckett in his general estimate of the merits of the Revised Version. 
His critical sword is not so rusty ; but he deals his blows wildly, and 
not a few of them strike the air. The Revisers, he thinks, have 
ostentatiously set at defiance the principle of introducing as few 
alterations as possible, and have made a vast multitude of unneces* 
sary changes. He admits * the duty of rendering identical expressions 
in strictly parallel places of the Gospels by strictly identical language,' 
but differs from the principle of adopting a uniform rendering for 
the same word wherever it occurs. We are aware that the principle 
of variety of rendering has been vigorously defended by able 
authorities, and it is possible that the opposite principle of uniformity 
has sometimes been carried to excess in the Revised Version ; yet 
we cannot but think that in the translation of a book, every word of 
which we desire to study with minute attention, it is of primary im- 
portance to preserve the distinctions of the original wherever it can be 
done. Why, for example — to take one of the changes most strongly 
objected to, and most justly objected to if rhythm is the paramoimt 
consideration — should Omnipotent take the place of Almighty in one 
isolated passage (Rev. xix. 6)? na^rok-paroip is a word characteristic 
of the Apocalypse, and in all the other passages where it occurs, as 
well as in the Nicene Creed, it is translated Almighty, Yet this is 
one of the changes condemned by the Reviewer and Sir Edmund 
Beckett as unnecessary. Many, perhaps, will sympathize with the 
Reviewer's charge against the Revisers of * offensive pedantry' in the 
rendering of the tenses. Possibly they have been over-bold ; but 
we believe that time and familiarity will reconcile us to many render- 
ings which now seem hopelessly harsh. The question is not solely 
one of English idiom. The Greek language makes fine distinctions, 
often of high theological significance, which English is not accus- 
tomed to do. Is it impossible for us to learn to make those distinc- 
tions ? For example, in S. John xvii. \ff^ the aorists are not merely 
synonymous with perfects. They have a special and forcible meaning. 
Must we be content to leave this unsuggested to the English reader ? 
Or, to take another case, the Reviewer may call it * pedantry to 
thrust in I have believed^ in S. John xi. 27 ; but the perfect tense is 

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246 Short Notices. April 

not identical in meaning with the present used in the Lord's question 
in the previous verse. Martha is unable as yet to answer the Lord's 
question with a full affirmative, but rests on the faith she had already 
gained in past days, and still held fast, and therefore says not / 
believe but I have believed. 

The Reviewer repeatedly returns to the attack on the Revisers" 
readings, and again lays the blame of misleading the Revisers on 
Professors Westcott and Hort * The new Greek text,' he says, * is 
in the main a reproduction of the recent labours of Drs. Westcott 
and Hort.' The substantial trustworthiness of their results has 
already been maintained in the pages of this Review \ but it may be 
worth while to point out here that by far the majority of the Re- 
visers' readings are those adopted, not by Drs. Westcott and Hort 
only, but by the best textual critics of the century, Lachmann, 
Tischendorf, and Tregelles ; that the Revisers were certainly not 
actuated by any slavish adherence to the Professor's text, which con- 
tains many readings not recognized at all, and many which are only 
given as marginal alternatives, in the Revised Version ; and that the 
American Revisers, who discussed the questions independently, rarely 
differ from the textual decisions of the English company. 

3. Dr. Kennedy's volume contains three sermons preached in Ely 
Cathedral last July, the first of them having been also preached before 
the University of Cambridge in January 1861, with an introductory 
letter to Dr. Scrivener, and appendices. One of these, which gives 
(in English) the chief alterations in the Revised Version, due to 
textual corrections, will be useful to the English reader. In common 
with Mr. Humphry's tract, the book possesses the special interest of 
lifting a comer of the veil, and giving us a glimpse of the Revisers at 
their work, and the reasons of one of their number for dissenting 
from the decision of the majority in certain cases. We wish space 
allowed us to quote the Professor's defence of the Revisers for restoring 
Tyndale's rendering * love ' in i Cor. xiii., in place of * charity^ which 
the Authorized Version apparently took from the Vulgate, or its 
daughter, the Rhenish Version. The change has been severely 
blamed, but the Professor's arguments are very weighty ; and when 
the novelty has worn off, the gain may very probably be felt to over- 
balance the loss. 

4. Of Mr. Humphry's tract we need say no more than heartily to 
commend it to those of our readers who have not already seen it, as 
an excellent exposition, in brief compass, of the Revisers' principles, 
with illustrative comments explaining the reasons for change in a 
series of selected passages. 

5. We have reserved Dr. Field's work to the last, because it is not 
merely a criticism of the Revised Version, but, in the words of the 
preface, * the author's contribution to the common stock of mate- 
rials for the right understanding of that part of the Word of God to 
which they relate.' Part of the work is taken up with * a comparison 
of the venerable Authorized Version with its more modem com- 
petitors ; ' the remainder is of a more miscellaneous character. Its 
distinctive feature is the illustration of the language of the New Tes- 

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i882. Short Notices. \ 247 

tament from classical sources. The whole deserves careful study. 
Dr. Field's argument against the marginal alternative ^ Moreh^ a 
Hebrew expression of condemnation/ in S. Matt. v. 22, is conclusive. 
It ought never to have found a place even in the margin. The ex- 
haustive note on rp r/o/ri; ///icp^t, in S. Matt. xvi. 12, is admirable. 
But it is needless to select instances ; the whole book is full of ripe 
scholarship and sound learning, which command our respect even 
where we cannot agree with the writer's conclusions. The more we 
have of such criticism on the Revised Version the better. Octoge- 
narian as he is, the vigour of Dr. Field's mind is unabated. 

It will not be out of place to conclude this series of notices by a 
few words on the position and prospects of the Revised Version 
generally. Much of the criticism in books and reviews has failed to 
appreciate the difficulty of the Revisers' task, and fastening upon the 
blemishes and imperfections of their work, real or imaginary, has 
ignored its merits. The * irresponsible reviewer ' seems moreover to 
assume that the majority of the Revisers fold their hands over the 
completed work in self-satisfied complacency. Mr. Humphry speaks 
much to the point when he says, in words quoted with hearty approval 
by Dr. Kennedy : — 

* You will readily believe that neither I nor any of my colleagues is 
able to stand up for the revision as the product of absolute wisdom. 
Each of us, times without number, has been outvoted by a " tyrant ma- 
jority." There is no sentence in our preface which had our more hearty 
approval than that which confesses to the existence of blemishes, imper- 
fections, failures ; though if each of us had made out a list of such blots, 
no two of the lists, probably, would have been found to agree. It cannot 
be otherwise where many minds are discussing the multifarious details of 
a long and difficult work, though the advantages arising from their joint 
counsel greatly outweigh the drawbacks' (p. 21). 

But what answer is to be given to Sir Edmund Beckett's question, 
* Should the Revised Version be authorized?' We entirely agree 
with Dr. Field when he says : — 

* A new version of the Bible for the use of students who could follow 
the original tongues might safely be left to the ordinary purveyors of sacred 
literature, and to private speculation. The solemn acceptance of the com- 
pleted work by the English-speaking portion of the Church of Christ, its 
authorized introduction into the reading-desk and pulpit, its ascendency 
in our schools, families, and closets, is the sole worthy aim, the dignus 
vindice nodus, which should gather so large an assembly of scholars and 
divines, for ten or fifteen years at stated intervals, round the table of the 
Jerusalem Chamber, to compare together the results of so many hours of 
laborious investigation, conducted in their respective studies at home' 
(p. iii). 

But it is quite premature to talk of authorization at present, and 
not less premature to talk of the absolute impossibility of authorizing 
such a book as the Revised New Testament. Before the question 
of authorization can be fairly entertained the Old Testament must be 
published, and that is not likely to be ready for one, two, or possibly 
three years. Then the difficult question must be faced, whether any 
alterations are needed for the sake of uniformity in the complete work. 

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248 Sfwrt Notices. April 

* I venture to ask those who are the proper persons,' writes Dr. 
Kennedy, * to consider and decide whether, after the interval of a year, 
within which time criticism at home and abroad may have said its last 
word, the Revising Company might not usefully be invited to meet again, 
nnd while they review their reviewers, to review themselves by such light 
as would have been gained. To what steps such a review might lead, I 
do not presume, as a single member, to suggest.' 

Whether such a reopening of questions already decided after 
mature deliberation is possible or desirable may be doubted ; but in 
any case it should not be attempted until the revised Bible is in our 
hands as a whole. We share Dr. Field's confidence when he says, 
after mentioning some of the objections brought against the Revised 
Version : ' ]>ion nostrum est tantas componere lites ; but that they will 
be composed^ and that the final result will be, in conjunction with the 
revised Hebrew Scriptures, a work worthy to take its place as the 
English Bible of the future, we have no doubt ' (p. v.) ; and we agree 
with Dr. Kennedy that — 

* A heavy responsibility would rest somewhere if the present great 
opportunity should be frittered away instead cf being improved to the 
utmost ; if Bibles and liturgies containing proved corruptions and errors 
in important passages were long left to circulate among Christian people, 
as representing the pure Word of God. To many minds this would seem 
to be a shame and a scandal ' (p. xvii.). 

Let the Revised New Testament be studied in private, let it be 
used as the basis of commentaries, let it be freely quoted in the pulpit, 
for the next few years. Time will show if it can make its way, not by- 
Act of Parliament, but by its own intrinsic excellence. Those who 
have been familiar with the words of the Authorized Version, if only 
for a space of fifteen or twenty years — how much more those who 
have stored them in their memories for half a century and longer — 
cannot be expected to feel affection for this stranger, with whom they 
have not yet had twelve months' acquaintance ; but its claims to their 
respect are weighty, and we believe that respect will slowly but surely 
ripen into affection as they come to recognize its substantial value. 

' I repudiate the notion,' wrote the Bishop of Durham, when the work 
of Revision had only just been commenced, * that it is the business of a 
translator, when he is dealing with the Bible, to improve the style of his 
author, having before my eyes the warning examples of the past, and be- 
lieving that all such attempts will end in discomfiture. Is it not one great 
merit of our English Version, regarded as a literary work, that it has 
naturalized in our language the magnificent Hebraisms of the original ? ' * 

Is it chimerical to hope that the Revised Version may naturalize 
among us something of the exacter methods of expression, some- 
thing of the finer distinctions of thought, in which the Greek 
language is unrivalled, and which are better appreciated by the 
scholarship of the nineteenth century than by that of the sixteenth ? 
We cannot agree with the antiquated type of scholarship which 
assumes that Evangelists and Apostles used tenses and prepositions 

^ Ona Fresh Revision of the New Testament, Preface to the second 
edition, p. xiii. 

Digitized by 


1 882. Short Notices. 249 

and articles and conjunctions without regard to their proper meaning ; 
nor can we think that it is impossible, or at any rate not worth while, 
to reproduce that meaning in English. But that meaning will not 
always be at once intelligible. Familiar words are sad tyrants ; and 
many readers think the sense which they have been accustomed to 
attach to the well-known words of the Authorized Version is the true 
sense, and stigmatize changes as meaningless, when the fault lies 
with themselves for not appreciating the new and truer meaning 
l)rought out by some apparently trivial alteration. 

We will conclude by quoting once more the words of the Bishop 
of Durham, written more than ten years ago. The first part of his 
anticipation has been realized : we believe that the rest is destined 
to be realized also : — 

* Let us suppose that the revision, which we are about to undertake, 
is successfully accomplished. How are we to deal with it.'* If the 
work commends itself at once to all or to a large majority as superior to 
the present version, then let it by all means be substituted by some 
formal authorization. But this is quite too much to expect Though 
S. Jerome's Revision was incomparably better than the Old Latin, 
though the superiority of our received English Version to its predecessors 
is allowed on all hands, no such instantaneous welcome was afforded to 
either. They had to run the gauntlet of adverse criticism ; they fought 
their way to acceptance inch by inch. I suppose that no one who takes 
part in this new revision is so sanguine as to hope that his work will be 
more tenderly treated. This being so, it does not seem to be necessary, 
and it is perhaps not even advisable, that the new Revised Version, if suc- 
cessfully completed, should at once authoritatively displace the old. Only 
let it not be prohibited. Give it a fair field, and a few years will decide 
the question of superiority. I do not myself consider it to be a great 
-evil that for a time two concurrent versions should be in use. This at 
least seems a simple practical solution, unless indeed there should be 
such an immediate convergence of opinion in favour of the Revised 
Version, as past experience does not encourage us to expect.' ^ 

History has begun to repeat itself : we expect to see the parallel 

The Making of England, By John Richard Green, M.A. LL.D» 
(London : Macmillan, 1881.) 

* Happy is the country,' said Frederick William IV. of Prussia when 
visiting Eton, * where the new is ever old, and the old is ever new.* 
It is this great blessing of social and political continuity, this absence 
of any such chasm as parts the France that now is from the France 
that was before 1789, which gives to Mr. Green's subject its inex- 
haustible interest for all Englishmen : an interest enhanced, so far as 
enhancement is possible, by the vividness of his style and the anima- 
tion of his tone. The present volume is indeed to some extent a 
reproduction or expansion of the first sections of his Short History of the 
English People; but it has a most attractive specialty of its own in 
the prominence given to physical geography, the care with which 
the face of the country, as it existed in the fifth and sixth centuries, 
^ On a Fresh Revision of the New Testament^ p. 16 (187 1). 

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250 Short Notices, April 

is made to * play its part in the written record of that history to which 
it gives so much of its shape and form ' (Preface, p. vii.) : that 
part being an explanation of the slowness of the English conquest by 
reference to the local conditions which facilitated the tenacious 
resistance of the natives, who, 'as each bit of ground was torn away 
from' them, 'sullenly drew back from it to fight as stubbornly for the 
next' (p. 133). We are made to see what various barriers crossed 
the path of Jute, or Saxon, or Angle : to appreciate the importance 
in this respect of the dim mysterious Andredsweald, the swamps along 
the Thames near ancient London, the fens of the Trent, the waters 
out of which the isle of Avalon lifted itself, as Dean Alford's * Ballad 
of Glastonbury' has it, 'above the .flood of the Severn sea,' the 
Hambleton Hills, the Cheviots, and the Chiltems, Cannock Chase, 
and Waltham Chase, the forests of Arden, of Charnwood, and of Sher- 
wood, of Worcestershire, Dorsetshire, and of the Frome valley, not to 
speak of ' the stormy hills of Wales,' and the Tor district of Dartmoor. 
We see also the strongholds of man's making which Rome had left 
at Richborough and Reculver, at Pevensey and Colchester, at Sil* 
Chester, at Marlborough, and at Old Sarum. We look on while the Jutes 
leave Durovemum, the predecessor of Canterbury, ' in blackened and 
solitary ruin; ' while the Angles take York and Leicester, and the East 
Saxons conquer Verulamium and London, and the West Saxons cross 
the Thames at Wallingford (Welshmen's ford) to subdue Oxfordshire 
and Bucks, and then 'wheel westward' until they conquer the district 
of Cirencester and Bath and Gloucester, and reach the goal of their 
northward advance by burning the great ' white town ' at the foot of 
the Wrekin. And we are reminded of the two great rallyings of 
British energy which threw back the West Saxons at Badbury or 
*Mons Badonicus' in 520, and at Faddiley near Nantwich in 583, and 
of the * strife of the conquerors,' in which young King Ethelbert 
received his check at Wimbledon, and the Hwiccas, with British 
allies, smote down the mighty Ceawlin on the downs of the White 
Horse. He assigns their full importance to other great battles, as that 
of Degssestan, where Ethelfrid routed the Scots j or the Idle, in which he 
fell before Redwald ; or Heavenfield, where the British ' rally came to 
an end ' and Northumbria was rescued from Paganism ; or Winwsed- 
field (the locality of which he does not specify), where Mercia for a 
while fell with Penda ; or the second battle of Wanborough, where 
Wessex resisted a Mercian attack in 7153 or Burford, where it shook 
off Mercian supremacy in 754. 

Famous towns and famous places under Mr, Green's touch 
stand out in sunshine. We look round from the site of S. Paul's, 
and see the ' brick houses and red-tiled roofs, pierced with a net- 
work of narrow alleys,' with villas stretching out along the * hollow 
bourne,' and a cemetery at Shoreditch, and Roman embankments 
limiting tlie ' lagoon' at South wark. We are helped to associate 'the 
massive walls' that still girdle Chester with the times in which the old 
Camp of the Legions was a North-Welsh capital until it yielded to 
Ethelfrid the Fierce. On the * sovereign hill,* as Wordsworth calls 
it, which dominates the fen-country we learn to substitute ' the square 

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i882. Short Notices. 251 

fortress' of Lindum for the glorious minster of Lincoln. Anyone 
who knows the mined abbey of Whitby will recognize the truth of an 
exquisite descriptive passage which aims at reproducing * the waste in 
which Hild reared her home, its grey reaches of desolate water, its 
dark tracts of desolate moor' (p. 368). Again, Mr. Green takes us, as 
it were, into the Roman country houses, such as have been discovered 
at Bignor and Woodchester, and points out the heating apparatus, 
the mosaic floors, the wall frescoes of nymphs or of a ' Roman 
holiday.' The scene changes, and we see the Yorkshire provincials 
snatching up weapons and brooches, and driving off their cattle, as they 
fly to moorland caves for a shelter involving what was little better 
than slow death. And his Oxford readers will be grateful for the 
loyal recollections which give Shotover a place in his record in con- 
nection with the old British town of Bensington, and resolve St. Aldate 
Street into the 'Fish Street' which represented the 'fishermen's huts 
creeping up from the ford' towards S. Frideswide's. 

We observe that here and there The Making of England conecXs 
the Short History. The old mistake, started by Elmham (perhaps 
from a misapprehension of the sense of *parochias' in the decrees of 
Hertford) and followed by other writers, including Hook, to the 
effect that Theodore created parishes in England, had been followed 
in the earlier book (p. 30). In the present volume (p. 380) we are 
rightly told that Theodore * does not seem to have dealt with the 
station or revenues of the lower clergy,' and that * the development of 
a parish system ' naturally followed diuing the next century on that 
organization of the episcopate in which, while breaking up the large 
dioceses which had been co-extensive with kingdoms, Theodore 
' only fell back on the tribal demarcations which lay within the limits 
of each kingdom,' as in Mercia and East Anglia (p. 343). 

Mr. Green seems also to have somewhat modified his former view 
as to the fate of the Britons. In the Short History the conquest is 
described as * a sheer dispossession and slaughter ' of the conquered 
race ; he now says ' there is no need to believe that the clearing of 
the land meant the general slaughter of the men who held it. . . . For 
the most part the Britons cannot have been slaughtered ; they were 
simply defeated and drew back' (p. 135). Whither? Into the inland 
* forests,' into Elmet and Cumbria, into Wales and Devon and Corn- 
wall. He denies, as he did before, that they were * left as a subject 
population:' that is, he holds to the view rejected by Mr. Pearson, 
and by the late Professor Brewer (see the latter's review of the Short 
History in his English Studies, p. 68), and he seems to speak more 
absolutely than Professor Stubbs, who admits that ' in the country, 
especially towards the west and the debateable border, great numbers 
of Britons may have survived in servile or half-servile condition' 
(Const, Hist., i. 70). He also clings to the new fashion of reducing 
English proper names, however familiar their modem forms may 
have become, to what he believes to be their primitive spelling. We 
agree with Mr. Brewer in objecting to this rigorism, to which even the 
great authority of Mr. Freeman cannot reconcile us, and which Dr. 
Stubbs significantly ignores. Doubtless the popular form of a proper 

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252 Short Notices. April 

name must be surrendered when it suggests a misleading idea, as 
* Charlemagne' suggests the idea of a Frenchman and not of a Teuton. 
But who is misled by the sounds, so musical to our ears, and so 
deep-rooted in our memories, of Bede and Edwin, of Alfred and 
Edward? or who can make household words of Bseda or Eadwine, 
-Alfred, or Eadward? No intelligent person supposes that the 
names, as we now commonly write them, are precisely and literally 
what they were when first written, any more than that the Apostles 
spoke of * John ' or ' Peter,' or that the correspondents of Hieronjrmus 
wrote to * Jerome/ A historian may reasonably give, in the first 
instance, the original form of the name, and then, if a later form 
has become part of our literature or our speech, he had better keep 
to it, and secure freshness at the cost of minute accuracy. Mr. Green 
himself is not consistent in this precision. Not only does he give to 
places the names which they bear at present, after mentioning those 
which they bore of old, but he feels free to speak of Gregory, of 
Augustine, of Bertha, of Theodore, and has no scruple in favour of 
Wilfrith and Cuthberht, although he turns the name of * Colum ' (see 
Reeves' Adamnan, p. 5) into * Coloni,' and inflicts on his readers the 
monstrosity of Cobmba. It is curious that Alcuin is in one place 
(p. 427) written *Alcwine.' We grant that the beloved father of 
English history wrote himself Bseda ; but it is as Bede that for ages 
he has had a home in English hearts. 

And now we must observe that Mr. Green has in a few cases read 
his ' Baeda' somewhat hastily. Two of these instances relate to the 
brief but splendid career of that true saint-king who regained 
Northumbria for Christ, and who, * being made perfect in a short 
time, fulfilled a long time.' Mr. Green says that ^ dXtht pressure of 
Oswald, Penda murdered Eadfrid' (p. 291), and for this statement he 
cites 'Baeda, H. E., lib. ii. c. 20.' But Bede only says that this 
murder took place *regnante Osualdo.' Again (p. 294) we read that 
whereas *the first thought of every northern warrior as he fell 
had till now been a hope that kinsmen would avenge his death upon 
his slayers,' Oswald's * last words, as he saw himself girt about with 
bloodthirsty foes, passed into a proverb : " God have mercy on their 
souls, as Oswald said ere he fell" (Baeda, H. E. iii. 12, p. 294).' 

We have no doubt that so noble a Christian as S. Oswald was 
wont to pray for his enemies ; but it happens that Bede understood his 
words on that occasion as a prayer 'pro animabus exercitus sui.' The 
point of the 'proverbium,' Bede tells us, was that his last utterance 
was a prayer, ' quod etiam inter verba orationis vitam finierit.' 

Again, although it is but a small point, it is as well to be right about 
the place where S. Aidan died. He did not die 'among his brethren 
at Lindisfame' (p. 297), but, as Bede takes special care to tell us (iii, 
17), under an awning outside the west end of the church of Bam- 

Again, Mr. Green says that 

* Theodore solved the vexed question of their disputed orders by re- 
consecrating Bisi as bishop over East Anglia, and Ceadda as bishop of 
Mercia' (p. 332). 

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i882. Short Notices. 


For this he refers to * Baeda, H. E. lib. iv. 2, 3/ and Florence of 
Worcester, a. 673. Neither of them say one word about any re- 
consecration of Bisi. How, indeed, should they ? Bisi was of the 
East Anglian line of bishops beginning with S. Felix ; he had nothing 
to do with the Scotic Church, or with the British; he was simply con- 
secrated by Theodore after the death of his predecessor Boniface, or 
' Berctgils,' who died in 669 (comp. Bede, iii. 20, iv. 5 ; and see 
Stubbs's Registrum Sacrum^ pp. 2, 3). 

x\gain, we cannot understand why Birinus is said to have come 
from Gaul (p. 293), whereas he came through Gaul from Genoa (Bede, 
iii. 7). But the most singular of these oversights occurs in p. 223. 

* To the eastward of Canterbury rose the abbey of S. Peter and S. 
Paul, in which Augustine and his successors sat as abbots.' 

This monastery was built with a view to a burial-place for Augus- 
tine and his successors (Bede, i. 33) ; but their home was Christ 
Church, where their * cathedra' was placed, and where they lived in 
monastic fashion with their clergy (Bede, i. 27, 33). The custom 
of interring the archbishops in SS. Peter and Paul's — otherwise 
S. Augustine's — came to an end in the eighth century (see Dean 
Hook's lively account of the burial of Archbishop Cuthbert at Christ 
Church, Lives of Archbishops^ i. 233). Mr. Green seems also to 
mistake the sense of * librarius ' in one of Bede's letters. It does not 
mean 'librarian' (p. 400^, but copyist : see the Prafatio de Retracta- 
tione Actuum^ * an incuni librariorum sint depravata,' &c., and Du- 
cange, * Librorum descriptor.' 

Mr. Green dates the establishment of the Irish kingdom of British 
Dalriada in Argyllshire ' at the close of the Roman rule over Britain ' 
(p. 231).- But the received date for the coming of Fergus Mac Ere 
from Ireland to Argyllshire is at the end of the fifth or beginning of 
the sixth century, about ninety years after the withdrawal of the 
Romans from Britain. It is hardly necessary on such a point to 
refer to Mr. Skene or Dean Reeves. 

The simile of * the sparrow ' has a special charm for Mr. Green, as 
for all thoughtful and sympathetic readers of the grand story of King 
Edwin. He says well, in regard to it, that 

' To finer minds the charm of Christianity lay then, as now, in the 
light it threw on the darkness which encompassed men's lives, the dark- 
ness of the future as of the past ' (p. 263). 

We cannot help quoting the lines in which Mr. Palgrave has 
recently embodied the Northumbrian ealdorman's deduction from his 
touching parable : — 

* But if this pale Paulinus 

Have somewhat more to tell. 
Some news of whence and whither. 

And where the soul may dwell ; 
If on that outer darkness 

The sun of Hope may shine. 
He makes life worth the living, — 
I take his God for mine! ' 

{Visions of England^ p. 27.; 

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254 Short Notices, April 

We give as one sample of Mr. Green's eloquence, and also of his 
tendency to exaggeration, his estimate of that Irish Christianity 
which did such great things for Northumbria, but which, happily on 
the whole (see pp. 317, 324), gave way in 664 to the ordinary European 
type. Having shown how the old Irish Church, being intensely 
monastic, was also intensely tribal, and therefore deficient in the 
spirit of order and unity, he goes on thus : — 

* The Celtic passion, like the Celtic anarchy, stamped itself on Irish 
religion. There was something strangely picturesque in its asceticism, 
in its terrible penances, its lifelong fasts, its sudden contrasts of wrath 
and piety, the sweetness and tenderness of its legends and hjmins, the 
awRil vindictiveness of its curses. But in good, as in ill, its type of moral 
conduct was utterly unlike that which Christianity elsewhere developed. 
It was wanting in moral earnestness, in the sense of human dignity, m 
self-command ; it showed little power over the passions of anger and 
revenge ; it recognized spiritual excellence in a rigid abstinence from 
sensual excess and the repetition of countless hymns and countless 
litanies. But on the other hand, Ireland gave to Christianity a force, 
a passionateness, a restless energy, such as it had never known before. 
It threw around it something of the grace, the witchery, the romance of 
the Irish temper. It coloured even its tenderness with the peculiar pathos 
of the Celt. ... It is this peculiar tenderness that gives its charm to the 
love of living things that colours the legends of Celtic saints ' (p. 286). 

And then he tells us of the great missionary of Hy * caressing the 
head which a horse (it was his own old white horse) thrust into his 
lap,' and of the Apostle of Ireland as setting an example of * charity 
to animals ' (we thank Mr. Green for that phrase) by gently carrying 
away a fawn which he had found on the spot chosen for his church 
at Armagh. 

Perhaps the tersest and most energetic passage in the book is 
that which closes the account of our fathers' heathenism (described 
as devoid of moral influence), military and civil organization, social 
distinctions, and law-making. Having exhibited the gradations of * tun- 
moot,' (or village-moot), hundred-moot, and folk-moot, Mr. Green 
says, hpropos of a paltry gibe at Parliament as a 'talking-shop ' : 

* The " talk " of the village moot, the strife and judgment of men 
giving freely their own rede, and setting it as freely aside for what they 
learn to be the wiser rede of other men, is the groundwork of English 
history' (p. 194). 

The maps, it should be added, are a great addition to the useful- 
ness of the volume ; but a little colouring would have made them 
clearer. And the index is far from being complete. 

Processionale ad usum tnsignts ac preclarcB Ecciestce Sarum, Printed 
by McCorquodale & Co., with Thirteen Illustrations. For the 
Editor, W. G. Henderson, D.CL. (Leeds, 1882.) 
When in January, 1880, we had occasion to speak of the Sarum Pro- 
cessional as the next desideratum among service books to be reprinted, 
we had no expectation of having our wish gratified so speedily. 

We are glad to see it accurately and excellently printed in a 
comparatively cheap form ; and we may add that the illustrations (a 
dozen from the edition of 1508 (which are similar to those of 1502), 
the second being copied from the commoner set of 1528, and later 

Digitized by 


1 882. Short Notices, 


editions) are to be had separately, on large or small paper, and that 
they will be suitable for insertion in the Sanim Missale (p{ which the 
fourth or concluding part is, we hope, nearly ready) or m Mr. A, H. 
Pearson's translation of the same. 

Other books of Sarum Use are interesting because they contain 
much that the compilers of our Book of Common Prayer have pre- 
served. The Processional has its importance rather as the represen- 
tative of what was swept away. It was perhaps supposed that the 
constant use of prayers, praises, and readings, in the vulgar tongue, 
would supply the place of the popular processions. 

The Sarum Processiatialy all things considered, is hardly so rare 
a book as might have been supposed. In 1850, Mr. Dickinson gave 
a list of fifty-nine copies, representing about fourteen editions. We 
know of eight or nine other copies. One which has come to our 
knowledge only this month, has, we regret to say, been generally 
overlooked. It is earlier than the Rouen edition of 1508, which Dr. 
Henderson supposes to be the first known. 

The copy to which we refer was printed by R. Pynson, in 1502, 
on vellum. It is now in the library of S. John's College, Oxford. 
The title is wanting, but the colophon (kindly transcribed for us by 
the Rev. J. W. Stanbridge) is as follows : — 

' Processionalibt^ (dUigenti cura ac industria correct : ad usu^ 
insignis pr<rclareq2^^ ecclesie ^axum impr^sisqi^ per Rychardvu» 
Pynson : signo georgii in Fletestrete commorante/n) finis felix 
adhibit«J pridie ydus Nouewbris anno saluL mil® cccccii. 

Monumenta Ritualia Ecdesia Anglican^. The Occasional Offices of 
the Church of England according to the Old Use of Salisbury, the 
Prymer in English, and other Prayers and Forms, with Disserta- 
tions and Notes. By William Maskell, M. A. 3 vols. Second 
edition. (Oxford : Clarendon Press, 1882.) 

The first edition of this work, published by Mr. Pickering (1846-7), 
has done so much for the enlightenment of two generations with 
respect to the ritual and offices of the Church of England that we 
need do little more than give a hearty welcome to this new edition, 
and point out how far it differs from its predecessor. 

Volume I. contains, as before, the offices from the Sarum Manual 
and Pontifical, which correspond with the part of our Prayer-Book 
from the Order of Baptism to that of Burial of the Dead. The old 
form for making a Will, which appeared in the Appendix of 1847, 
here takes its proper place. The Order of a Synod, preceded by 
various Benedictions (that for a foundation-stone not having appeared 
in ed. i), and the Consecration of a Churchyard, completes the 
text of the volume ; but the Reconciliation of a Church or Church- 
yard is here very properly appended to the Consecration Service 
instead of standing as it used to do in the third volume. 

The famous dissertation on Service Books heads the volume. It 
contains these new items : Agonal, Albus liber, Collationum liber, 
Confessionale, Exultet rolls, Festivalis, Ministerialis (=Pontificale), 
Obsequiale, Postilla, Responsorium, Tabula, Viola sanctorum. 

Volume II. in the new edition contains the ceremonies of Coro- 

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256 Short Notices, April 

nation, Ordination, Enthronization, Pall, Royal and Episcopal Re- 
ceptions, Banners and Ring ; in other words, the contents of vol. iii. 
in the first edition. Then follow the forms of Degradation and 
Restoration, Excommunication, Absolution, and Reconciliation. The 
new matter here is the Litany sung at the coronation of Queen 
Matilda, pp. 85-88, which (as Mr. Maskell notes) has been already 
printed by Dr. Henderson in the York Pontifical, The Defensorium 
Directorii keeps its old place at the end of vol. ii It is a pity that 
there was not room for the Crede Michi, which certainly ought to 
accompany it But there are 550 pages in the volume as it is. 

Volume III. is practically vol. ii. of the old edition. It com- 
prises the Prymer in English with its dissertation slightly enlarged. 
We observe extracts in the notes from two Additional MSS.^ a new 
note on Antiphona (p. 66), a reference to the Cornish word to hele} 
Among the miscellanies in the text are a fragment of a metrical 
calen(&r, versions of the Ten Commandments and the Athanasian 
Creed, The manner to Make a Nun, from a Cotton MS., Office for 
King Henry VI., and two Indulgences in the vernacular. 

We are happy to say that the work still keeps the form of an aid 
to the student of our Book of Common Prayer. A close observer 
may notice the omission of a few passages ; or he may see a few 
criticisms on the reformed Church of England. Mr. Maskell remarks 
in the Preface on the necessity of ritual appearing as an evidence 
of a ' claim to teach with certainty what is true and what is not true.' 
He quotes a passage which we have often thought to be particularly 
interesting at the present time, as giving either the testimony of a 
foreigner that copes and chasubles were worn among us early in 
the eighteenth century, or at least the interpretation put upon the 
Ornaments Rubric by an eminent Galilean ritualist at that period, 
GrancolaSy * Comment. Hist in Romanum Breviarium,' lib. i. cap. xii. 

We will conclude by thanking Mr. Maskell for his fi-ank apology 
(i. 113 ; iii. 107, 124, 403) for the English Book of Common Prayer 
against certain ignorant criticisms which have been made upon it 

Coptic Morning Service for the Lord*s Day. (London: Masters, 

The Marquess of Bute has done a useful and unpretending piece of 
liturgical work in this translation. A short preface gives a few words 
on each of the following subjects: the Offices of the Egyptian Church, 
certain modern practices, the structure and arrangement of Egyptian 
churches, and the pronunciation of Coptic. The main book, which is 
for the most part printed in parallel columns of Coptic or Greek and 
English, contains first the Prayer of the Morning Incense preparatory 
to the Liturgy ; then the Coptic Liturgy of S. Basil the Great, with 
a few liturgical notes ; and an appendix on the Canonical Hours of 
the Divine Office. Lord Bute's aim, he tells us, has been to provide 
a portable handbook for English travellers in Egypt, to enable them 
to follow intelligently the Sunday morning service of the Coptic 

* The old explanation of * beltidum* criticized by Professor Stubbs, 
Councils^ Hi. 5851 has not been abandoned, in. liv. n. Zj. 

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NO XXVIIL July 1882. 


1. A Jlistory of Flemish Painting. By J. A. CROWE and 

G. B. Cavalcaselle. (London.) 

2. Geschichte der Christlichen Malerei. Dr. HOTHO. (Stutt- 

gart, 1867.) 

3. Nachrichten v, d. Leben u. d, Werken Kolnischer Kiinstler. 

Dr. Merlo. (Cologne, 1850-52.) 

4. Geschichte der Bildenden Kunste, Dr. KARL SCHNAASE. 

(Diisseldorf, 1845-64.) 

5. Kleine Schriften und Studien zur Kunstgeschichte. Franz 

KUGLER. (Stuttgart, 1853-54) 

We are so much accustomed to think of early German art as 
hard and prosaic, purely realistic in tone and devoid of grace 
and sweetness, that we are apt to overlook the work of those 
German masters who had a true feeling for beauty, and were 
prompted by a genuine inspiration. 

In the whole range of northern art, perhaps no school is 
more full of interest than that which flourished at Cologne 
in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The history of its 
painters is involved in obscurity ; their very names are almost 
unknown : but in German cities their pictures still gladden 
the eye and refresh the mind of the traveller wearied with 
looking at endless specimens of Rubens and Guido. Essen- 
tially Teutonic in character, this school is distinguished by 
an ideal beauty and nobleness of type, a refinement and 
delicacy, wanting in ordinary German art. All that was 
fairest and best in the age when it flourished, the graceful 
and elevated spirit of chivalr>% the rare and tender charm 
that breathes in the lays of the Minnesanger, the quiet joys 
of burgher life, find reflection in the works of Meister 


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258 TIu Early Masters of Cologne. July 

Wilhelm and Stephan and the scholars who trod in their 
steps, while the deeper emotions and more exalted aims 
which animate the higher forms of art are never absent from 
their conceptions. 

The ancient and historic city of Cologne was the centre 
where this fair flower of mediaeval art blossomed under 
northern skies. Founded by the legions of Augustus, on the 
banks of the Rhine, where the fort of the conquered Ebu- 
rones had stood, illustrious in Roman times as the birthplace 
of the Empress Agrippina, who gave the infant colony her 
name, Cologne had already a great past behind her. Above all 
she was rich in Christian traditions and memories of martyred 
saints. As early as 94 a.d. her first bishop, Matemus, had 
raised a church in honour of S. Cecilia. Within her gates — 
so said the legend — Ursula and her virgins had died for the 
faith, and Gereon and the Theban legion had laid down their 
lives rather than give up the Cross at the command of 
Maximinian. Future generations had vied with each other 
in paying honours to their memory. The mother of Con- 
stantine had herself erected a church to S. Gereon, which 
was soon followed by the building of another in commemo- 
ration of S. Ursula ; and under Charles the Great countless 
pious foundations enriched Cologne. Celebrated as the holy 
city, the Rome of the North, it became her boast that she 
counted as many churches as days in the year within her 
walls, while her archbishops were personages of political 
importance, and her merchants carried the German name 
into distant countries. 'Qui non vidit Coloniam,* so the 
common saying ran, * non vidit Germaniam.* 

All these causes combined to render Cologne a home 
for art, and from Roman days painting seems to have been 
cultivated by her sons. As civilization receded before the 
barbarians, whatever fragments of culture remained in the 
Rhineland found shelter in convents, and the illumination of 
missals and choir-books was almost the only form of art 
which survived the general wreck. With Charles the Great 
came the first dawn of a better day. The Rhineland was 
the seat of his court, and the best artists from all parts of the 
civilized world were summoned to adorn his cathedral at 
Aachen and hundred-pillared palace at Ingelheim. The 
warlike expeditions of the Saxon Othos into Italy, and the 
marriage of Otho II. with the Greek Princess, Theophania, 
had the efTect of introducing that Byzantine influence which 
is visible in the rude art of the period, but it is not till the 
fourteenth century that any great advance becomes evident. 

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1 882. The Early Masters of Cologne. 259 

Before that time the Crusades, more perhaps than any 
other cause, had contributed to mould the national, character. 
Not only was the sight of foreign climes and strange people, 
and the assembly of men of all nations under the same 
banner, calculated to break down old barriers and open new 
realms of thought, but the common enthusiasm which had 
seized hold of men became the means of developing in a 
remarkable manner two of the strongest sentiments that 
ever stirred the German breast — the chivalrous worship of 
women, and the love of Fatherland. 

The same passion swayed the heart of the true knight, 
whether he looked with reverent eyes on the face of the 
mistress to whom the service of his sword was pledged, or 
whether he knelt before the shrine of the Virgin whose pro- 
tection he sought in the perils of the field. His love for 
that divine lady might be of a spiritual nature, purified 
from all earthly motives, but it was still Das Ewig-weibliche 
which attracted him and remained the object of his worship. 
And when, strong with a courage into which all the intensity 
of his love had passed, he had gone out to the holy wars, and, 
amid the tumult and dangers of battle-scenes in that far 
East, the sweet thought of wife and child came back to him, 
the yearning for home and kin, for the safe accustomed place 
and sure welcome awaiting him by his own hearth, sank deep 
into his soul, and the love of Vaterland became a conscious 
part of the national mind. 

Then German life and German language began to move 
freely; a national poetry, a national style of architecture 
arose. The minstrel sang his all-absorbing devotion to the 
* siisS'innigliche Minne^ the severe solemnity of the Roman- 
esque pillar gave place to the graceful Gothic shaft, and the 
worn-out remnants of debased classic art dropped off, leaving 
the young national thought free to express itself in its own 
rude but vigorous and independent form. 

Nowhere are greater facilities afforded us for the study of 
these first steps of German art than at Cologne, one of the 
first cities which became renowned for her painters, as early as 
1 200. Wolfram von Eschenbach in his Rittergedicht of Parsifal, 
speaks of them as men of well-known repute in Germany. 

' Es haette kein Maler zu Koeln oder Maestricht, 
So gibt die Aventure bericht, 
Eine Kriegergestalt gemalt so schoen 
Als der Knap zu Ross war anzusehn.' 

Specimens of their work at this time are still to be seen 

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26o The Early Masters of Cologne. July 

both in the city and surrounding country. Chief among 
these may be mentioned the mosaics and paintings in the 
crypt of S. Gereon's church, the saints and reposing angel of 
the baptistery, and the ten life-size figures of Apostles on 
slate, inscribed with the date 1224, and which, although much 
repainted, still retain a certain dignity. More important 
in point of conception are the twenty-four subjects intended 
to illustrate the eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the 
Hebrews, with a colossal Christ in the centre, on the vaulted 
roof of the Abbey of Brauweiler. These also belong to the 
beginning of the thirteenth century, and the attitude of the 
hand in the Greek rite of benediction, as here introduced, 
shows that Byzantine influences were then still prevalent. 
But in the earliest pictures of the Museum of Cologne, most 
of which belong to the latter part of the thirteenth and 
beginning of the fourteenth centuries, as well as in the 
miniatures of the missals and Minnelieder of this period, we 
find Byzantine types abandoned for the freer conceptions of 
German artists, graceless and hard enough with their gaudy 
patches of vermilion and ultramarine, and utter absence of 
shadow or harmony, yet containing the germs of better 
things, and here and there showing a perceptible striving 
after individual expression. 

In 1 162 a new treasure had been added to the relics 
which Cologne already possessed, when, after Barbarossa's 
conquest of Milan, Reinold, Archbishop of Cologne, brought 
back with him the bones of the Magi, reputed to have been 
discovered in India by the Empress Helena, and afterwards 
carried to Italy from S. Sophia. 

* Rejoice, O holy city, rich in honours, and thank God 
who has chosen thee before every other city in the world to 
be the happy shrine of the Three Kings ! * exclaimed the 
chronicler ; and Cologne had good cause to rejoice in this new 
acquisition, which brought pilgrims from all parts of the world 
to visit these relics. The old Byzantine cathedral belonging 
to the eighth century was soon held unworthy to contain 
these precious treasures ; and, after the idea of erecting a new 
temple had been first entertained by Archbishop Engelbert, 
the destruction of the old building by fire in 1248 rendered 
the execution of his design necessary. Accordingly, in the 
same year, the first stone of a Dom intended to surpass in 
grandeur and costliness any church that had been hitherto 
seen was laid by Archbishop Conrad, of Hochsted, in the 
presence of the Emperor and his whole court, and by 1322 
the choir was entirely completed. 

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1 882. The Early Masters of Cologne. 261 

The progress of such a work within the walls of Cologne 
could not fail to collect skilled artists from all parts of the 
world, and to exert a powerful influence on the men before 
whose eyes the beautiful fabric, resting on its giant buttresses, 
and bristling with pinnacles, with finials and Marien-blumen, 
rose slowly into being. Before long we hear that native 
sculptors were employed to carve the statues of the Apostles 
which still adorn the pillars of the choir, while Cologne gold- 
smiths worked a tabernacle so exquisite in beauty that it was 
said to rival O^gagna's shrine of Or San Michele, but which 
perished in the last century by the vandal hands of the 
Cathedral Chapter. This latter branch of art especially 
appears to have reached a high degree of perfection, and the 
fame of Cologne goldsmiths spread even into Italy. Ghiberti 
mentions one of them who lived at Naples in the employ- 
ment of Charles of Anjou, an artist of marvellous skill, whose 
hard fate it was to see the tavola d'orOy which he had worked 
with exceeding pains and love, melted down to supply his 
patron's necessities ; upon which, overwhelmed with grief and 
seized with a sense of the vanity of earthly fame, he retired 
to a hermitage and devoted the remainder of his life to the 
instruction of young artists and other good works. 

Painting in her turn felt the new impulse ; and although the 
wall paintings of the Cathedral choir, representing the Three 
Kings, and completed before the consecration of the building in 
1322, are still rude in character, before the end of the century 
we discover undoubted signs of a revived feeling for nature 
and beauty. 

The man whose genius raised the Cologne school out of 
darkness and barbarism, and made further advance possible to 
his followers, was a painter by name Meister Wilhelm. His 
history is plunged in obscurity ; it is difficult to point out with 
certainty any of his works ; but contemporary writers unite 
in a general outburst of wonder and admiration at his ap- 

' About this time,* says the Limburgh Chronicler, writing 
in the year 1380, 'there lived at Cologne a famous painter, 
called Wilhelm, who was the best master in all the German 
land, and painted every man as if he were alive/ 

In the Annals of the Dominicans at Frankfort we find a 
notice worded in almost exactly the same terms : * At that 
time, 1380, there lived at Cologne a most excellent painter 
whose like in his art there was not. His name was Wilhelm, 
and he made pictures of men which almost appeared to live.' 

These notices, curiously similar to the rapturous expres- 

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262 The Early Masters of Cologne. July 

sions with which the Florentines of the fourteenth century 
hailed the advent of Giotto, have been found to agree with 
the Cologne registers, where frequent mention is made of a 
painter named Wilhelm, a native of the neighbouring village 
of Herle, who settled in Cologne in the year 1358. He and 
his wife Jutta are named as buying a house in the street 
known as the Schildergasse, and exclusively inhabited at that 
time by painters and sculptors, or workers in stained glass 
and tapestry. Wilhelm was then evidently already in the 
enjoyment of considerable reputation, and by his talents 
and industry seems to have acquired some fortune, for in 
the following years he constantly appears before the public 
assessor to provide for annuities to be paid to himself and 
his wife, and in 1371 bought two other houses. In 1372 he 
is again mentioned, this time as receiving payment for a 
miniature he had painted ; after which no other record of him 
remains until his death in 1378, when he left half his property 
to his widow and the other half to his sister Christina, the 
wife of a tax collector. Jutta afterwards married Heinrich 
Wynrich von Wesel, the best of Wilhelm's scholars, and 
during many years a prosperous and distinguished burgher of 

From the remnants of the wall-paintings in the Rathliaus 
there can be little doubt that Meister Wilhelm was the name- 
less artist who received 220 marks for his works there between 
1370 and 1380 ; and the loss of these is the more to be de- 
plored since, unlike Giotto, this seems to have been the only 
occasion on which he devoted his talents to the decoration of 
any large space. Enough, however, of his work is left to 
show us his real greatness, and give us some idea of the new 
power which drew that cry of wondering admiration from the 
lips of his countrymen. 

The picture known as the ' Klarenaltar' now in the Cathe- 
dral, is the largest work of his that remains in tolerable 
preservation, and may be taken as a fair example of his style. 
It consists of an altar-piece with folding panels and a central 
tabernacle of richly carved Gothic work, intended to receive 
the reserved Host for the adoration of the nuns in the Convent 
of S. Clare, for which it was originally executed. The life 
of Christ is here represented in twenty-four compartments. 
The upper series, illustrating the Passion, is very inferior to 
the rest, and has a good deal of the affected grace and exag- 
gerated action that we find in Wilhelm's scholars ; but in the 
twelve lower compartments, representing scenes from the life 
of the Virgin and the childhood of Christ, we at once recog- 

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i882. The Early Masters of Cologne. 263 

nize the master-hand, the like of which, in the words of the 
old chronicler, had never yet been known in German art. 
The old stiffness and hardness are gone ; in the place of broad 
patches of red and gold we have a soft, broken colouring, 
delicately fused tints, and clear, transparent shadows. The 
figures which stand out in bold relief on the gold background 
are slender and youthful, with a drooping grace and slight 
inclination that give them a certain spiritual air — ^^the soul 
is quite alive, the body scarcely so ' — and feeble and incorrect 
as much of the drawing still remains, the draperies fall in 
graceful easy folds which no other painter of that day could 
have approached. In all Wilhelm's forms we notice a decided 
tendency to length ; the figures are tall and slight, while the 
heads are generally oval in shape, with long delicate features 
and eyes of dove-like sweetness. Those of the women in 
the lower scenes of the * Klarenaltar ' are especially winning in 
the gentle yet animated expression and innocent joy of their 
faces. All the gestures are marked by the same child-like 
naifvetd ; and the simplicity of the domestic incidents, where 
the Child bends from the manger to embrace His Mother, or 
attending maidens kneel round the bath which Joseph pours 
out, is truly German in character. There is even greater charm 
in the/ Conception of the Virgin :' a fair young girl, with deep 
thoughtfuln^s resting on her features as she sits apart ponder- 
ing the words in her heart Again in the ' Flight into Egypt ' 
she presses the Child to her breast with all a mother's anxious 
tenderness. The same simple yet reverent action is observable 
in the priest celebrating mass who is represented on the 
door of the tabernacle, and in the child-angels with curly 
heads and gay-coloured wings who appear in niany pf the 
scenes, crowding the skies where the vision comes to the 
shepherds, and gazing with infinite love, infinite wonder, in 
their faces, on the cradle of Bethlehem : — ' Which things the 
angels desire to look into.' Again and again in the works of 
the Cologne painters these angels recur, always remarkable 
for their beauty and richness of colour and the intent ex- 
pression of their countenance, whether they wait in reverent 
attitudes of adoring love around the cradle or the cross, 
whether they pick roses and play their harps and viols before . 
the crowned Madonna, or, fluttering to and fro above her 
throne, fill the air with the light and joy of their presence. 

Many of these characteristics appear in anotiiier series of 
the life of Christ preserved in the Berlin Gallery, and con- 
sisting of thirty-four compartments, among which the scenes 
of the birth and childhood, especially one where a group 

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264 The Early Masters of Cologne. July 

of children at play are introduced, are again the most note- 

Closely related to these altar-pieces is the ' Madonna ' of 
the Cologne Museum, in which we find, with greater power 
and elegance, the same blended colouring and tender flesh- 
modelling, which from Wilhelm had become the peculiar dis- 
tinction of the Cologne school. The Virgin stands in a flowery 
meadow, with a drapery of brownish violet thrown over her 
golden-haired head, holding the Child, who with one hand 
caresses her fondly, while in the other He holds a golden 
wreath. On the side-panels are two of those women-saints 
that Wilhelm loved to paint, with slender forms and oval 
faces : Katherine between the sword and wheel of her mar- 
tyrdom, and Barbara holding a little model of a tower in her 
hands. The idyllic grace that has made this picture one of 
the painter's most popular works lends its charm to his Berlin 
'Madonna,' who appears sitting on the grass between four 
saints, one of whom, S. Dorothy, offers the Child a basket of 
flowers, while S. Agnes is seen playing with her lamb, and 
Elizabeth of Hungary distributes clothes to the poor. 

Different in character, but similar to the last-named 
paintings in the manner of its treatment, is the * Veronica ' of 
the Munich Pinacothek, which tradition has long ascribed to 
Meister Wilhelm, and which was probably one of his later 
works, painted in the full maturity of his powers. In this 
picture, which Strixner's fine engraving has rendered familiar 
to many, a small * Veronica ' wearing a red mantle holds the 
sudarium on which a noble head of Christ is represented, 
and at either corner of which tiny bright-winged angels 
appear, singing and playing, or gazing in earnest contempla- 
tion on the mystery before their eyes. Their joy and radiance 
form a fine contrast to the dark tones and suffering expres- 
sion of the head, which supplies the central thought, and the 
touching grief on Veronica's delicate features. They have 
seen beyond this vision of agony and death, and, catching a 
glimpse of its hidden meaning, can pour out their glad songs 
and rejoice in the glory that breaks from behind the veil. 

Another * Veronica ' — inferior, indeed, but a good specimen 
of Wilhelm's work, and originally painted for the Lorenzkirche 
of Cologne — is now in the National Gallery, and, like the 
Munich picture, is surrounded by lovely little angels, although 
the fine expression of the head is wanting. The same noble 
simplicity of conception and skill in the management of 
draperies is evident in a crucifixion painted on the wall of 
the sacristy in the church of S. Severin at Cologne, where 

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life-sized saints stand beneath the cross and angels hover 
around, giving vent to their sorrow in gestures full of anguish. 
Another wall-painting, formerly attributed to Meister Wilhelm, 
is to be seen over the tomb of Archbishop Kuno von Falken- 
stein, in the church of S. Castor, at Coblenz, among the figures 
of which a striking portrait of Kuno himself is introduced. 
But as the archbishop only died in 1388, several years after 
the death of Wilhelm, the work must have been executed by 
one of his immediate followers, perhaps that very Heinrich 
Wynrich who married his widow. 

Of the other pictures which have been attributed at one 
time or another to Wilhelm, the beautiful painting in the 
Archbishop's Museum at Cologne, known as the * Madonna of 
the Violet or the Seminary,' deserves especial mention. It 
was long held to be his finest work, until the ruthless criticism 
of German writers discovered the arms on the shield of the 
kneeling donor to be those of Elizabeth von Reichenstein, 
abbess of the convent of S. Cecilia of Cologne in the year 
1452. On the strength of this evidence the picture is now 
generally accepted as an early work of Meister Stephan, but 
at the same time it must be owned that it retains more of 
Wilhelm's characteristics than are seen in any other of the 
later master's creations. 

Whoever the painter may have been to whom we owe 
this * Madonna,' it is the work of a thorough artist, and may 
fairly take its place side by side with the best productions of 
early Italian art. The Virgin, tall in stature, and mildly 
benignant, stands alone in a meadow carpeted with flowers. 
No crown adorns her pure maiden brow, but her hair is 
circled by a string of blue stones, and falls in long tresses on 
her shoulders. A red robe drapes her form in light and 
graceful folds, one hand clasps the Child with gentle pressure, 
while the other holds two violets. In the background, two 
angels with brown wings peep playfully over a gold-brocaded 
curtain ; above, the Father, the Dove, and a choir of child- 
angels look down out of blue skies ; and at the feet of the 
Virgin kneels a nun in black habit, the Abbess Elizabeth, with 
a scroll and coat of arms beside her. The slender shoulders, 
oval face, and tall, drooping figure all remind us of Wilhelm ; 
but, on the other hand, there is more vigour and health in the 
form than is usual with him, and the rich embroidered hangings, 
the pearl and gold ornaments, approach nearer to Stephan's 
manner ; in a word, the best qualities of both masters seem 
here combined. 

Such were the works, whether painted by his hand, or 

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inspired by his genius, which have made the name of Wilhelm 
of Cologne a living reality for us. They are sufficient to fill 
us with the deepest interest in the man. We long to know 
more of his life and character, to hear the circumstances which 
developed his talent, and to learn the secret of his power. 
But nothing, or next to nothing, transpires to satisfy our 
curiosity. History and tradition are both strangely silent 
concerning him. There was no Vasari to collect the gossip- 
ing details and numerous anecdotes of Cologne artists ; no 
Boccaccio, in a few graphic touches, to fix the personality of 
the man for ever on our mind. Little we know, and probably 
there was little to tell. His days glided calmly by, as the 
waters of the Rhine flow under the bridges of his own 
Cologne, clear, deep, tranquil. The noise of war and tumult, 
the unrest of modem times, never came to mar his work, or 
break the tenor of his way. He did not travel from court to 
court, to become the guest of popes and princes, and cover 
their palaces with frescoes ; the churches and convents of 
Cologne, the burgher-homes of his fellow-citizens, supplied 
him with all the work he needed, and satisfied his highest 
aspirations. For him this was enough ; and we never find that 
he sought for more, well content with the quiet life of the old 
Rhenish city, where the builders each day added a stone to 
the great Cathedral, and morning after morning he could open 
his eyes on that wondrous choir, and feel its beauty sink deep 
into his soul. 

And his works are the reflection of this quiet, simple life. 
Common every-day scenes and homely incidents are the 
subjects he chooses. The embrace of mother and child, the 
lovely purity of maidenhood, the peace of angel-guarded 
homes, are what he excels in painting ; where he fails, it is 
when energy of action and dramatic representation are re- 
quired. His saints are not ecstatic beings, transfigured with 
celestial glories, or rapt in a trance of passionate devotion ; but 
youthful knights or burghers full of dignity, fair-faced maidens 
and noble matrons bending in reverent worship before the 
lowly shrine of Bethlehem, or scattering flowers at the feet of 
the Child-King. The angels, which, as we have seen, play so 
large a part in his conceptions, have all the happy innocence 
and joy of childhood, and the Madonna herself is less the 
Queen of Heaven than the Maid-Mother, whose gentle brows 
are crowned with the highest graces of perfect womanhood. 

The same spirit pervades the works of Wilhelm's scholars, 
who, during the close of the fourteenth and first half of the 
fifteenth century, painted most of the altar-pieces which 

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i882. The Early Masters of Cologne. 267 

crowd the churches and museums of Cologne, or adorn 
the collections of other German cities. Following in his 
steps they copied his types, and used the same pale 
water-colour, mixed with wax and honey, which for clear- 
ness and polish surpasses all other tempera painting: but 
like all other imitators, they lost his grace and exaggerated 
his defects. Their histories are unknown to us, and their 
names have for the most part perished. Members of a guild 
in which their separate individuality was merged, they did 
not even follow the Italian practice of signing their pictures, 
and it is only by a fortunate chance that the name of the 
second great Cologne master has been preserved. 

While Meister Wilhelm's fame had been handed down to 
succeeding generations by other German writers, the name of 
the painter of the * Dombild,' like that of the architect of the 
cathedral, remained unknown, until a- few years ago the dis- 
covery of a passage in Albert Diirer's diary revealed the secret. 
On his journey to the Netherlands he paid a visit to Cologne, 
and, during his stay there, makes the following entry in his 
journal : ' Item : I paid two silver pennies for unlocking the 
picture painted at Cologne by Meister Stephan ; ' the very 
fee which is paid to this day by all who visit the * Dombild.* 

On examining the city registers mention was made of a 
certain Stephen Lothener or Lochner, originally a native of 
Constance, who was a painter of great consideration in 
Cologne, where he bought a house in 1452, and married a 
wife by name Lysbeth. Although evidently an artist of high 
repute, and twice elected senator by the guild of painters, 
Meister Stephan seems to have been less prosperous or less 
wise than Wilhelm, and in his last years was much hampered 
by money difficulties. In 1444 he sold his first house, and 
bought two others near the church of S. Alban, but mortgaged 
a part of these in order to raise money for the purchase. 
Four years later, at the very time when he sat in the Council 
as representative of his craft, he proceeded to mortgage the 
remainder of his house property to a creditor named Ever- 
hard von Egmont. In 1451 he was again elected senator ; 
but this time a cross is set against his name, indicating that 
he died before the year of his office had expired. Further 
light is thrown on his end by Mathias Quaden, who in his 
Teutscher Nation Herligkeit^ published at Cologne in 1609, 
tells us that Albert Diirer paid a visit to Cologne, and was 
there shown a beautiful altar-piece before which he stood in 
speechless wonder. The senators who accompanied him 
observed, 'not,' says the chronicler, 'without a malicious 

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pleasure in showing him what poor men these proud artists 
were/ that the master who painted that picture had died in a 
hospital ; upon which Albert Diirer returned — * That is an 
honour of which you do well to be proud ! It is indeed a fine 
matter of praise for you, that such a man, and one through 
whom your city might have obtained such a glorious name, 
should have been allowed to die in miserable poverty/ 

This statement, when compared with the entry in Diirer's 
diary, and especially the mention of the senators for whose 
chapel the ' Dombild ' was painted, leaves little doubt that the 
master whose melancholy end is here mentioned was Stephan 
Lochner. Probably his houses, already as we know deeply . 
mortgaged, were seized by his creditors ; his wife seems to 
have been no longer living ; and thus widowed and childless, 
reduced to beggary, and without a friend to whom he could 
turn for help, the great painter was turned out of his home 
and forced to seek refuge in the hospital, where, in a short 
time, he died. The sad, brief record forms a mournful con- 
trast to the brightness and harmony, the atmosphere of 
sunshine and spring beauty, which breathes in every picture 
that we have from the hand of the master of the * Dombild/ 
We hear nothing of Stephanas early training ; but his style was 
evidently formed from that of Meister Wilhelm, whose works, 
the parish records of S. Alban's Church inform us, the young 
Constance painter beheld with enthusiastic admiration, and 
endeavoured with all his power to follow. 

Many of the paintings attributed to him probably belong 
to his early days ; but his largest work, and that which must 
ever form his chief title to fame, is the triptych of the 

* Adoration of the Three Kings,* long known as the Cologne 

* Dombild/ This great altar-piece, however, was not originally 
intended for the Cathedral, but for the Rathhauskapelle, 
erected by the Town Council after the expulsion of the Jews 
in 1426 on the place where the synagogue had formerly 
stood. A curious record, dated the Feast of S. John, 1426, 
still ' exists in Cologne Museum, by which the burgomaster 
and council order the erection of a chapel and altar where 
mass shall be said daily, * out of love and honour to Almighty 
God and his worthy Mother, the royal Virgin, in reparation 
for the manifold dishonour done by the Jews to our dear 
Lady and her holy Child.' In the course of the next few 
years the chapel was built ; and soon afterwards, probably 
about 1840, Meister Stephan, then the best artist in Cologne, 
was chosen to execute a painting for the decoration of its 
altar. From its original place in the Rathhauskapelle, the 

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i882. The Early Masters of Cologne. 269 

triptych was removed in modern times to the Agneskapelle 
of the Cathedral, whence it acquired the name of Dombild, 
and where it remains to this day. For long its very existence 
seems to have been forgotten ; and from the time when 
Albert Diirer stood in speechless admiration before it, we hear 
no mention of the ' Dombild' until Goethe, struck by its high 
merit, pronounced that the work made an epoch in the history 
of art Since then every German traveller and German critic 
has in turn paid homage at the feet of Stephanas masterpiece, 
and the best connoisseurs have discovered in his work the com- 
bined excellences of the three great Teutonic painters. Van 
Eyck, Holbein, and Diirer. 

The famous altar-piece consists of a large central compo- 
sition, representing the Adoration of the Kings, with folding 
doors, on the outside of which we see the Annunciation, 
while within S. Gereon and S. Ursula appear surrounded by a 
train of knights and virgins, all the patron saints of Cologne 
being thus brought together in one painting. Exactly in the 
centre of the picture the Virgin is royally throned, with a 
splendid diadem on her brow and a mantle of ultramarine 
blue, lined with ermine, reaching down to her feet. She is still 
the pure and gentle maiden of German dreams ; her eyes are 
bent on the ground in virgin modesty, while two angels hold 
up the comers of a rich hanging behind her, and others, blue 
winged, hover in the air and look down with tender interest on 
the scene before them. The Child sits on His Mother's knee, 
and raises His hand in blessing as the three kings advance 
in full knightly array, with golden spurs on their heels. The 
end of the journey is reached, the star which had risen for 
them in the east rests above the Virgin and Child, and the 
great moment has arrived. Caspar, distinguished by his 
noble bearded head and jewel-sewn crimson robe, presents a 
richly-chased casket of gold ; Melchior, in a velvet mantle 
patterned over with large golden flowers, offers the myrrh ; 
and the youthful Balthasar stands on the right behind him, 
his head bent forward in eager love, one hand holding an 
egg-shaped vial, which contains the frankincense, the other 
laid on his breast with the timid, reverent gesture of one who 
feels unworthy to advance. Every detail is full of significance : 
the topstone of the Virgin's crown is a dove with outspread 
wings ; the brooch which fastens her mantle is made in the 
shape of a flying angel ; and the costumes of the kings are all 
exactly borrowed from the description of the popular legend, 
as given by the old Cologne chronicler, John of Hildersheim. 

All that is joyous and brilliant has been brought together 

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to swell the triumph and add splendour to the scene : the 
pride of woridly pomp, the gleam of armour and jewels, the 
flutter of banners on the breeze. Close on the footsteps of 
the kings follow a troop of squires and men-at-arms, bear- 
ing their crowns and standards. And then to join in the 
triumphal procession come the youthful saints who guard the 
towers of Cologne : Gereon, in shining armour, wearing the 
cross on his breast, the type of Christian knighthood, sur- 
rounded by his soldier youths ; Ursula, fair as a bride on her 
way to meet the bridegroom, with white roses in her hair, 
and a foretaste of martyrdom in her pale cheeks and drooping 
form. Her virgins bear her company, and her lover, the 
beautiful youth iEtherius, stands by her, gazing tenderly on his 
martyr-bride, who forgets even him as she advances in silent 
expectation to meet her Lord. For them, too, the end of the 
journey has come, and the weariness of the way is forgotten 
as the light breaks upon their faces from the radiant Child. 
The bitterness of death is past, and they go in hand in hand 
to the joy of the marriage feast. 

The quiet simplicity of the 'Annunciation ' on the doors of 
the triptych offers a striking contrast to the splendour of the 
great pageant that has passed before our eyes. Yet in con- 
ception it rivals the principal subject ; and although these 
panels have suffered most from the effects of exposure, they 
are, in Kugler's opinion, the finest part of the picture. On 
one panel the angel, a youthful figure with wide-spread wings, 
bearing a silver staff and the scroll of salutation in his hands, 
bends reverently before the maiden purity of Mary, who is 
represented on the opposite panel as kneeling at a carved 
wooden desk in a chamber hung with embroidered curtains. 
Her attire is of the simplest description, without ornament or 
jewel of any kind ; her long hair, smoothly braided on her 
forehead, rests carelessly on her shoulder, and a large white 
mantle falls in loose folds to her feet. Beside her is a flower- 
ing lily, and above her head floats the heavenly Dove. The 
message of Gabriel has filled her with awe and wonder ; but the 
habit of dutiful obedience comes to restrain her deep sense of 
unworthiness, and ' Behold the handmaid of the Lord ' breathes 
in every line of the sweet face and delicately raised hand. 
Here the childlike simplicity of the mediaeval master has 
approached nearest to the classic type ; and as we look at 
the winning grace of this lowly Virgin we understand the 
enthusiastic expression of the German critic who cried, as he 
stood before this panel, * Meine Wonne ! ' We see at once in 
studying the 'Dombild' that, although most of Wilhelm's 

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i882. The Early Masters of Cologne. 271 

leading features are retained, art has made a great step since 
his time. The drawing, still imperfect in some respects, is 
much improved.' The drooping form is retained for the most 
part ; but the figures are more healthy and manly in appear- 
ance, marked throughout by a noble and dignified bearing, 
and natural and vigorous movement. Instead of Wilhelm's 
tendency to length, we have a decided preference for short 
forms and round full faces. Those of the women are still 
distinguished by the same tender beauty, but have more 
individual character, and the hair is twisted with greater 
elegance round the head. The feet, on the other hand, are 
curiously pointed, and drawn downwards in a way that gives 
all Stephan's figures the appearance of standing on tiptoe. 
The colouring is still remarkable for its soft-blended tints 
and clearness of polish; only the tones are deeper and 
stronger, and reach a richness and brilliancy which have 
caused this master's oil-varnished tempera to be mistaken for 
oil-painting. A strong element of the Flemish realism which, 
even in Stephan's days, was fast gaining ground in German art 
is visible in the costumes of the principal personages, and in 
the gorgeous display of fur, and velvet, and jewellery which has 
taken the place of Wilhelm's mystic, dimly-defined folds of 
drapery. But the violets and strawberries which start up in 
the grass under the Virgin's feet, the presence of the hovering 
angels, the simple grouping, and above all the tender reverence 
of the saints' heads, remain to show how much Stephan had 
learnt from the earlier master. 

We stand, as it were, on the border land of two epochs, 
and the new world advances to meet the old. The ideal 
tendency of early days is still there, only strengthened and 
developed into fresh power and hardihood. The painter has 
gained in knowledge, and has not lost the faith and simplicity 
of his fathers. This, then, is Stephan's greatness, this the title 
which gives him a claim to be placed side by side with the 
founder of the Cologne school, as the man who expanded 
and perfected the art of Cologne without sacrificing anything 
of its first purity. And not only in his ' Dombild,' but in the 
smaller altar-pieces we owe to his brush, there is the same 
happy union of spiritual beauty and realistic vigour. We find 
it, under its tenderest and most graceful aspect, in those poetic 
subjects known as * Paradies Garten ' by the Germans, which, 
in their spring freshness and joyousness of heart, remind us of 
the sweetest love-songs of the Minnesanger. The beautiful little 
painting of the * Madonna im Rosenkag * will recur at once to 
the memory of all who have visited the Cologne Museum. 

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272 The Early Masters of Cologne. July 

Originally intended, like many other pictures of the 
Cologne school for the decoration of private altars in dwell- 
ing houses, this little * Madonna' is marked by the utmost 
perfection and delicacy of workmanship; and nothing can 
exceed the charm of the pearly Schimmer which floats over 
the polished surface. Serene in their heavenly beatitude, 
Mother and Child smile down upon us from a world on 
whose fadeless flowers sin and sorrow have never breathed. 
A bower of roses surrounds them, and angels in whose wings 
the brightest hues of rose-red, violet, pale blue, and saffron 
are delicately blended, pluck blossoms from the bush, and 
offer them to the Child. Others, sitting on a grassy bank, 
play the harp, organ, and violin ; while, above, two more draw 
back a golden curtain, and reveal the Father gazing lovingly 
on the happy group. 

Another work of this class is the ^Paradies Garten ' belong- 
ing to the Prehn collection, and now in the Frankfort library. 
Here the graceful fancy of the painter has had full play. 
The Virgin sits in a garden before a table decked with fruit 
and flowers, and the Child plays on a zither, while maiden 
saints pick cherries from the boughs or draw water from a 
well at the side; and S. Michael and S. George stand by 
under the trees. We hear the rush of waters, the twittering 
of birds in the branches ; leaves are rustling in the breeze, 
and dewdrops sparkling in the grass. We feel ourselves 
borne away into the poetic world of the German minstrels, 
and walking once more in those forest shades through which 
Siegfrid rode, or resting in the court of some ancient feudal 
castle where Walther von der Vogelweide poured out his song 
to the lady of his heart 

Many other paintings of this class, in which saints read 
out of jewelled books or listen to angelic concerts on the 
flowery meads of Paradise, are to be found both at Munich 
and Berlin among the works of the Cologne school, and in 
their style and subject often resemble fairy legends more 
than the creations of sacred art. 

On a larger scale and graver in character was the altar- 
piece of the *Life of Christ' which Stephan executed for the 
Abbey of Heisterbach, near Bonn ; scattered panels of which 
are still preserved at Cologne and Munich, where some fine 
single figures of Apostles and Saints are worthy of notice. 
Three Saints in our National Gallery, small, full-length figures 
on a gold ground, are good although not highly finished 
specimens of his manner, and in style of colouring and type 
of head nearly related to the * Dombild.' One other work 

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undoubtedly by his hand is the ' Presentation of Christ in the 
Temple/ now at Darmstadt ; in which we notice the prevalence 
of the realistic element which marks his later productions, 
together with the same fusion of soft grey, and violet, and 
sea-green hues. The aged Simeon holds the Child in his 
arms ; Mary kneels on the altar-steps offering her pair of 
doves ; and Joseph presents the pence, while above we have 
the usual appearance of the Father between blue-winged 
angels. The altar is very elaborate, being draped in cloth of 
pale blue with embossed metal plates, on which are reliefs 
representing the history of Moses, Abraham, and Joseph. 
Boughs of holly strew the floor, and on either side stand 
a choir of men and children, with round faces and blue eyes, 
holding wax-lights in their hands. In the group on the right 
our attention is attracted by a man in a long white mantle, 
probably the donor, for he wears a cross on his breast, and 
holds a scroll on which we read the following lines in old 
German characters : 

* Jesu Maria geit uns Loon, 
Mit dam rechtferdigen Simeon, 
Des Heiltum ich hie zeigen schoen.* 

Below is the date 1447, showing us that the picture was 
painted near the close of Stephan's life, and probably not till 
after he had completed the * Dombild.' 

The well-known painting of the ' Last Judgment ' in the 
Cologne Museum has also been often ascribed to Stephan ; 
but the nature of the subject was beyond his range, and, 
although not wanting in power, there is a coarseness in the 
forms and utter absence of the charm so conspicuous in his 
heads which prove it to be the work of an inferior hand, 
probably of some scholar at a time when the Van Eyck 
influence was fast gaining ground. 

From the time of Stephan's death we trace a rapid 
decline in the Cologne school. The works of his followers 
extend all through the fifteenth century, and testify to a high 
degree of energy and productiveness ; but evince a gradual 
loss of that spiritual beauty which had been the peculiar gift 
of the earlier masters. Flemish realism advanced with ever- 
hastening steps to invade the guarded precincts of Cologne, 
and before its onward march the purer life of German art 
gradually died out. 

Nowhere is this foreign influence more apparent than in the 
famous ' Passion ' long in the possession of M. Lyversberg, a 
series full of vigour and originality, but wanting in all the higher 


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274 T^ Early Masters of Cologne. July 

qualities for. which the Cologne school had been remarkable. 
A certain John of Cologne is mentioned in the Memorials of 
Zwolle as an excellent painter and goldsmith, living in 1478 ; 
but none of his works are known to exist, and in the pictures 
of the Master of the Passion's followers, in those of the Master 
of Calcar, and the Italianized Bartolomaus de Bruyn, we trace 
the expiring efforts of old German art through the last years of 
the fifteenth century. After this the Cologne school, as such, 
may be said to exist no longer, and the few artists who pro- 
longed the life of painting within her gates were rather 
Flemish than German. Even then the best masters came to 
seek inspiration from the works of Wilhelm and Stephan. 
We see John van Eyck in his 'Antwerp Madonna' closely 
following the ' Madonna of the Violet,' without, however, being 
able to approach the Cologne painter in the skill and grace with 
which he managed draperies, and Wilhelm's * Madonna ' of the 
Museum becomes in the same manner a model for Hans 
Memling. This last-named painter especially learnt much 
from a patient study of the Cologne masters during the years 
he spent in their city ; and the famous shrine of S. Ursula, 
which he executed for the hospital of Bruges after his return 
home, bears evident marks of the deep impression they had 
left on his mind. To them again Holbein is indebted for 
much of the nobleness and elegance of his figures, and it was at 
Cologne that he learnt the modelling of flesh-tints and Rhenish 
style of colouring that he first introduced at Augsburg. Great 
as these masters were, we find in all of them a want of that 
true perception of beauty which had belonged to Wilhelm and 
Stephan, who, however far short of perfection their efforts 
might fall, always seem to have held a distinct ideal before 
their eyes. From the first there was in Teutonic painters an 
inch'nation to take pleasure in the fantastic, and to feed on 
what is repulsive rather than what is beautiful. This tendency 
naturally resulted in vulgarity and caricature, and in its ex- 
aggerated form proved fatal to German art. The sunny 
Heiterkeit which shone in the conceptions of those early 
painters seems to have disappeared in a fog of sombre 
thought, and although here and there a clear spirit might 
wrestle his way through cloud and darkness into the light of 
day, although an Albert Diirer might find expression for his 
thought, or a Holbein embody a whole world of philosophy 
in some grand touching humour, without this high serenity 
the nobler forms of art could not flourish. 

Again, the backwardness of civilization and the poverty of 
German princes were unfavourable to the culture of art, and 

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i882. The Early Masters of Cologne. 275 

exercised a cramping effect on its development There were 
no splendid patrons, no wealthy popes or republics, to supply- 
artists with work on a large scale, and encourage others to 
follow in their steps. Only one German prince ever gave 
Diirer a commission ; and Holbein had to seek England in 
order to obtain employment. *Ah! how I shall freeze for 
this sunshine ! ' wrote poor Albert Diirer from Venice ; Diirer 
who never received as much as one hundred florins for all the 
work he had executed for his native city of Niimberg, and 
who, unable to make a livelihood by painting, had recourse to 
engraving to keep himself from actual starvation. 

Then came the Reformation ; and, in the wars of religion 
and the long struggle which ensued for liberty of conscience, 
art was forgotten. There was no time to paint then ; every one 
must think for himself— think, and examine, and proselytize. 
Saints and Madonnas were no longer needed when there were 
no more altars, and painting, forced out of the old paths and 
confined to narrow limits, sank into a merely mechanical 

Even Cologne, the Catholic city, Cologne of the many 
churches, could not resist Protestant influences; the Dom 
stood still, and the last remnants of the school of painting, 
which had sprung up under its shadow, died out completely. 
A change had passed over men's ideas ; life was too busy, and 
they had grown too wise to sit down and dream of paradises 
where happy saints pluck roses from the bowers, and birds and 
angels pour out their glad carols round a laughing Child-Christ. 

The day had worn too far on ; the freshness of morning 
had for ever passed away; they had ^thought themselves 
weary ; ' and, even in their sleep, such dreams came to them no 
longer. The old masters of Cologne were forgotten ; but 
their works remained to see the light of another day, and 
to become precious in the eyes of a later generation as the 
loveliest flowers of an age rich in poetic fancies, in awakening 
powers, in high and tender imaginations. 

T 2 

Digitized by 


276 The Liturgy and Ritual July 


1. Missale Antiquissimum a Leofrico primo Episcopo 

Exoniensi Ecclesiae S. Petri datum. (Bodleian MS., No. 
579, X.-X1. cent.) 

2. Missale Roberti Archiepiscopi Cantuariensis. (In the 

Public Library at Rouen. MS., Y. 6, xi. cent) 

3. Missale Antiquum^ or ' the Red Book of Derby.* (In the 

Library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. MS., 
No. 422, xi. cent.) 

4. The Anglo-Saxon Church. By H. So AMES. (London, 


5. The Latin Church during Anglo-Saxon Times, By H. 

SOAMES. (London, 1848.) 

6. The Church of our Fathers. By D. RocK. (London, 


7. Origines Anglicance. By J. INETT. (Oxford, 1854.) 

8. History and Antiquities of the Anglo-Saxon Church. By 

J. LiNGARD. (London, 1858.) 

A VERY considerable number of the Service Books in use in 
the Church of England in Anglo-Saxon times survive in 
the larger, chiefly public, libraries of England and France. 
They consist of Sacramentaries or Missals, Troparies, Pas- 
sionals, Hymnaries, Collectaria, Pontificals, and Benedic- 
tionals, besides numerous Psalters and Books of the Gospels 
written both in Latin and in the vernacular language of the 
country. We do not present the reader here with a complete 
catalogue of such MSS., nor do we propose to discuss the 
exact meaning of the technical terms, some of them nearly 
obsolete, by which they are designated. This task has been 
admirably performed by Mr. Maskell in the introduction to 
his Monumenta Ritualia, of which an enlarged and revised 
edition has recently appeared. The preservation of so many 
MSS. of such great antiquity is a remarkable fact. It is 
due not to a literary, but to a controversial, reason. Learned 
men and antiquarians, both ecclesiastical and lay, in the 
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, entertained a notion that 
the Anglo-Saxon Church was Protestant in its teaching and 
doctrine, and that polemical capital against Rome might be 
made out of its books of devotion as well as out of the 

Digitized by 


i882. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 277 

writings of its divines. Had they read or published these 
theological remains as well as collected them, they would 
have discovered how baseless such a theory was. It rests 
almost entirely upon a single paschal homily of Abbot 
Elfric, who is generally identified with the Archbishop of 
Canterbury of that name (995-1005). This homily was 
translated and printed in 1567 by order of Archbishop 
Parker, and subscribed to by tlie Archbishops of Canter- 
bury and York, and by thirteen English bishops, as contain- 
ing the true Eucharistic doctrine of the Church. Since that 
time it has been frequently reprinted. It certainly contains 
some exceptionally strong expressions as to the spiritual 
nature of the Eucharist, and the absence of any material 
change of the substances of breaid and wine. But these 
passages cannot fairly be isolated. They must be read in 
connection with other passages penned by Elfric himself, and 
by other prominent ecclesiastical authors of the same period, 
and above all by the authorized formularies of the Anglo- 
Saxon Church. To insist on isolated utterances has always 
been, and always will be, a popular and successful contro- 
versial manoeuvre. It is constantly adopted by Protestants 
with reference to their favourite texts in the Bible; it is 
constantly adopted by Romanists, who in their controversy 
with Anglicanism are fond of quoting the statements made 
by this or that Anglican bishop, past or present, and arguing 
as if the whole Anglican Communion was committed to or 
compromised by them. Many of Mr. Soames' and Dr. 
Inett's ingenious attempts to prove that the Anglo-Saxon 
Church was in any sense a Protestant Church would have 
been impossible, and many of Dr. Rock's and Dr. Lingard's 
pages of laborious proof to the contrary would have been 
unnecessary, if the texts of the Anglo-Saxon Office Books 
had been published. It is better to get your materials before 
you argue upon them. Unfortunately with few and not very 
important exceptions ^ this has not been done. The labours 
of the Surtees Society have been mainly confined to repro- 
ducing the service books of the Province of York, belonging 
to the period between the Conquest and the Reformation. 
There is no similar society in the Province of Canterbury. 

^ E,g, an Anglo-Saxon Collectarium at Durham, published by the 
Surtees Society in 1840, under the misleading title of Riiuale Ecclesuz 
Dumlmensis\ an eleventh-century Hymnariumat Durham in 1851 (Surt. 
Soc. vol. xxiii.) ; the Pontifical of Archbishop Egbert^ now at Paris, in 
1853 (ibid. vol. xxvii.) ; the Benedictional of S. jEthelwold^ at Chats- 
worth, edited by Mr. Gage, in 1832. 

Digitized by 


278 The Liturgy and Ritttal July 

Individual editors, such as Dr. Henderson,^ Mr. Dickinson and 
his colleagues,* Mr. Pearson,' Messrs. Procter and Wordsworth,* 
have mainly confined their attention to the southern and later 
uses of Hereford and Sarum. The earlier and in that sense more 
important service books of the English Church have not yet ex- 
cited the same interest, or met with the same treatment, in part, 
possibly, owing to the greater difficulty attending their publi- 
cation, in part owing to their connection being more remote 
with present controversies and with the structure of the Book 
of Common Prayer. We propose, accordingly, here to give 
our readers some account of the Service Books, and through 
them of certain features of the Service, Liturgy, and Ritual, of 
the Anglo-Saxon Church. Among such books our attention 
must be chiefly confined to missals, as being the most im- 
portant of the various volumes mentioned at the commence- 
ment of this article. 

It must be borne in mind at starting that, unlike the 
ancient national Churches of Great Britain, France, and Spain, 
the Anglo-Saxon Church had no distinctive type of Liturgy 
of her own. Roman in origin, owing her existence to the 
forethought of one of the greatest of Roman bishops, planted 
and fostered in the first instance by Roman missionaries, the 
Church of England was consistently and loyally Roman in 
doctrine and practice. Her first liturgical codices, as well 
as her vestments and church ornaments, came direct from 
Rome, whence they were sent by Gregory the Great to S. 

When, therefore, we speak of an Anglo-Saxon missal, we 
mean a Roman missal with certain additions and modifica- 
tions, vdiich differentiate and distinguish it from any Con- 
tinental missal of the same date. Such additions and 
modifications are chiefly the following : — 

(d) The introduction into the Kalendar of local festivals, 
dedications of churches, commemorations of local or national 
saints, obits of bishops, abbots, or other clergy, or of lay 
benefactors of the church in which the missal was used. The 
names of local saints, especially of the patron saint, were also 

^ MUsale HerfordensBy Leeds, 1874. 

^ Missale Sarisburiense, Burntisland, 1861. 

' The Sarum Missal done into EngUshy 1868. 

* Breviarium ad Usum Sarum, Cambridge, 1879. 

• * Papa Gregorius Aug[ustino episcopo naisit . . . quae ad cultum 
erant ac ministerium ecclesiae necessaria, vasa videlicet sacra, et vesti- 
menta altarium, omamenta quoque ecclesiarum, et sacerdotalia vel deri- 
calia indumenta, sanctorum etiam apostolorum ac martyrum reliquias, 
necnon et codices plurimos.'— Bede, Hist EccUs, i. 29. 

Digitized by 


i882. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 279 

introduced in three places within the Canon, in the Com- 
memoratio pro Vivis, the Commemoratio pro Defunctis, and 
in the Embolismus after the Pater Noster ; and at the ends 
of the lists of martyrs, confessors, and virgins invoked in the 
Litanies forming part of the offices in the Benediction of a 
Font and the Unction of the Sick. 

ip) The presence of masses composed in honour of English 
saints, or for special occasions, or for local church festivals, 
in the exercise of an independent diocesan power for such 
purposes, the use of which has only in comparatively recent 
times passed away. 

(^r) The presence of Anglo-Saxon passages either in the 
rubrics, which were frequently but not invariably written in 
the vernacular, or in entries of important events on fly-leaves, 
or blank leaves, or parts of leaves. Manumissions of slaves are 
frequently so entered. The act of enfranchisement took place 
commonly before the high altar of the most important neigh- 
bouring church, and the event was chronicled in one of the 
service books in use there. 

{d) The presence of local peculiarities of ritual, in such 
points as the position of the priest, the employment of festal 
and ferial colours, &c. Ceremonial variations are especially 
numerous in the offices peculiar to Candlemas, Ash Wednes- 
day, Palm Sunday, and the different days of Holy Week ; 
and in the offices for baptism, marriage, &c., which were in- 
cluded in the ancient Sacramentary, but have been separated 
from the modem Missal, and are now to be found in the 
volume known as the Ritual, Manual, or Agenda. 

{e) The presence of ancient portions of the Eucharistic 
Service which have long become obsolete, as the triple epi- 
scopal benedictions after the Prayer of Consecration, numerous 
proper Prefaces, &c. 

Three MS. missals are in existence written before the Con- 
quest, and actually in use in the English Church before that 
date. Their names have been prefixed to this article. None 
of them have been published in extenso, though extracts have 
appeared in print, and considerable use of them has been made 
by various liturgical writers, especially in modern times.* 
A more detailed account of them than has yet appeared in 
print will, it is hoped, not be without interest to others besides 
experts in Liturgiology. 

I. The Leofric Missal was bequeathed to the Cathedral of 

^ As by Dr. Rock, Dr. Lingard, and Mr. Maskell. Dr. Henderson 
has published certain offices fi-om them in recent volumes of the Surtees 

Digitized by 


28o The Liturgy and Ritual July 

Exeter by Leofric the first bishop of that see (1050-1072), and 
has long been known under its donor's name. In its present 
condition it is a stout quarto volume, consisting of 378 leaves 
of vellum in a brown leather binding, which it received from 
some Oxford bookbinder about a century ago. It is a 
very complex volume, consisting of three main and distinct 
divisions, which, for convenience sake, may be designated as 
Leofric A, B, C. 

Leofric A is a Gregorian Sacramentary written in Lothar- 
ingia early in the tenth century. 

Leofric B is an Anglo-Saxon Kalendar, with Paschal 
Tables, &c., written in England about 970. 

Leofric C is a heterogeneous collection of masses, manu- 
missions, historical statements, &c., written in England in 
the tenth and eleventh centuries. 

The complexity of the MS. is increased by the confused 
arrangement of the leaves belonging to these separate parts, 
and to the occupation of blank pages or portions of earlier 
pages by later handwritings. It is impossible to say where 
this dislocation began, or how far it is due to the Oxford 
binder, nor is it possible to reproduce exactly their original 
arrangement, a leaf here and there having been entirely lost. 

There can be little doubt that Leofric brought (A) with 
him from the Continent, when, as seems probable, he accom- 
panied Edward the Confessor to England in 1042. He then 
procured a somewhat more recent Anglo-Saxon Kalendar (B), 
to which was added a large quantity of material (C), chiefly 
liturgical, including several masses, one of which at least was 
composed by himself.^ He then presented the compound 
volume to his new cathedral in his own lifetime, or be- 
queathed it at his death, accordingly as we interpret the 
colophon on the first page. This MS. is almost certainly one 
of the * 1 1 fulle maesse bee * enumerated in a contemporaneous 
handwriting among Leofric*s gifts to his cathedral.^ We 
need not hesitate to interpret the term * full mass book,' still 
less the term * missalis,' ^ of the Leofric MS. taken as a whole, 
although those terms would not apply to its parts regarded 
singly. A is simply an old-fashioned Sacramentary; B is 
only a Kalendar; C includes a miscellaneous collection of 
separate masses with all their component parts, sometimes 
exhibited at length as in a modern missal, but too frag- 
mentary in their number and character to deserve the name 
of missal by themselves. 

* Missa Propria pro Episcopo, f. 35^. 

^ Bodl. MS. Auct. D. ii. 16, ad init. ' It occurs on f. \a. 

Digitized by 


1 883. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 281 

The whole MS. remained the property of the Dean and 
Chapter of Exeter till 1602, when through the influence of 
their fellow-countryman Sir Thomas Bodley, then engaged 
in founding the library which bears his name, it was presented 
along with eighty other MSS. to the University of Oxford. 
A complete list of those MSS. is written in the Regis trum 
Benefactorum in the Bodleian Library,* where this missal is 
entered simply as Missale Antiquissimum. It will not 
surely be thought uncomplimentary or ill-natured to express 
a regret that both Bishop Leofric's missals were not given to 
the Bodleian Library in 1602, for its companion book, the 
other of the * 1 1 fulle maesse bee ' previously mentioned, is 
temporarily if not irrecoverably lost^ 

Some of the illuminations of this volume have been de- 
scribed with facsimiles by Professor Westwood,^ and some 
extracts have been printed by Dr. Henderson.* 

2. The Rouen Missal is a magnificent folio Anglo-Saxon 
Service Book, consisting of 228 leaves of fine white vellum, 
and with the exception of the loss of a few ornamental leaves 
is in a most complete state of preservation. It is in a sub- 
stantial modern binding of brown leather, with the title 
Missale Roberti Cantuar. Archiepiscopi impressed on the back. 
It was once the property of Robert, Prior of the Benedictine 
Monastery of S. Ouen at Rouen, afterwards, in 1037, made 
Abbot of Jumifeges in the neighbourhood of that city, then 
advanced by Edward the Confessor, firstly to the See of 
London in 1044, and secondly to that of Canterbury in 1051. 

According to the colophon on the recto of the last leaf, 
which was written by Robert himself, the volume, having 
been acquired in England, was given by him as a present to 
the Abbey of Jumi^ges while he was still Bishop of London. 
It runs as follows : — 

' Notum sit omnibus tam presentibus quam futuris per succedentia 
tempera fidelibus, quod ego Rotberlus abbagemete[n]sium prius, post- 
modum vero sancte Londonionim sedis presul factus, dederim libnim 
hunc Sancte Marie ^ in hoc michi comisso monachorum Sancti 

^ Page 42. 

* What has become of it ? In the beginning of the last century it 
was believed to be in the possession of Mr. Bourscough, Vicar of Totnes 
and Archdeacon of Barnstaple, ob. 1709 (Bernard's Catalogue^ A.D. 1697, 
p. 238 ; Wanle/s Thesaurus ^ p. 82). But there are reasons for believing 
that both Bernard and Wanley were mistaken. It is too intricate and 
subsidiary a point to be discussed at length here. 

' Miniatures of A.S. and Irish MSS, p. 99, plate 33. 

* Surtees Soc. vol. Ixi. p. 301, &c. 

* The chapel in S. Peter's Monastery at Jumi^ges had been built by 
Robert, and dedicated to S. Mary the Virgin, 

Digitized by 


282 The Liturgy and Ritual July 

Petri cenobio, ad honorem sanctorum quorum hie mentio agitur, et 
ob memoriale mei, ut hie in perpetuum habeatur. Quem si qui ui, 
vel dolo, seu quoquo modo subtraxerit, anime sue propter quod fecerit 
detrimentum patiatur, atque de libro uiuentium deleatur, et cum 
iustis non scribatur.' 

To which is added by the same hand, but at a later time, 
and with a different pen and ink : — 

* Et seuerissima excommunicatione dampnetur qui vel unum de 
palliis que dedi isti loco subtraxerit, siue ilia ornamenta, candelabra 
argentea, seu aurum de tabula. Amen.' 

The monks at Jumi^ges probably considered the missal 
more ornamental than useful. With its many commemora- 
tions of Anglo-Saxon saints, and its English rubrics, it 
was a * Missale secundum usum Ecclesiae AngHcanae,' not 
' Gallicanae,' and it bears no traces of having been in actual 
use. Treasured firstly in the library of the Abbey of 
Jumi^ges, and after the dissolution of that monastery in 
179 1 in the public library at Rouen, it has escaped the 
wear and tear which usually mark Service Books of so great 
antiquity. This njissal has been somewhat hastily and un- 
reasonably christened The Book of S. GuthlaCy ^ because a 
mass for that saint is written on the first page, but S. 
Guthlac's name is not ornamented in anyway in the Kalendar 
(April 11), nor is there any exceptional ornamentation in his 

There are no rubrics in the Canon of the Mass, nor in that 
part of the volume which may be described as the missal 
proper, but there are frequent rubrical directions in the 
Manual and Pontifical offices at the close of the volume, 
those for the Visitation and Unction of the Sick beings: in 
Anglo-Saxon, the rest in Latin. It differs from the Leofric 
Missal in containing no episcopal benedictions,^ and in not 
having the Roman Stations marked throughout, but only for 
the three masses on Christmas Day.^ 

The illuminations in this volume have been described in 
detail in Professor Westwood's work on The Miniatures 
and Ornaments of Anglo-Saxon and Irish MSS.}' to which 

^ Dr. Dibdin is responsible for this name. — Bib Hog. Tour, ed. 1821, 
vol. i. p. 165. 

* These benedictions are contained in an English Benedictional of the 
same date, and executed by the same artist as the missal, also preserved 
in the Public Library at Rouen. 

* Statio (i) Ad S. Mariam Majorem ; (2) Ad S. Anastasiam ; (3) 
Ad S. Petrum. * Page 136. 

Digitized by 


i882. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 283 

the reader is referred for fuller information. A comparison 
of them, with the illuminations of the Benedictionals of 
-^thelgar, at Rouen, and of S. iEthelwold, at Chatsworth, 
proves that they must have been executed at about the same 
time and in the same monastery, that of New Minster, at 
Winchester. That abbey was founded by Edward the Elder 
in 903, and dedicated to S. Mary the Virgin and S. Peter, 
who was accounted its patron, and whose name and festivals 
are treated in this missal with the highest possible embellish- 
ment. There are three festivals of S. Swithun, Bishop of 
Winchester, marked in the Kalendar: his Deposition on 
July 2, his Translation on July 1 5, his Ordination on October 
3. There are masses for two festivals of S. iEthelwold, 
Bishop of Winchester : for his Deposition on August I, and 
his Translation on September 13. There are two commemora- 
tions in the Kalendar of S. Birinus, first Bishop of Dorchester: 
his Translation to Winchester on September 4, and his De- 
position on December 3, all of which facts, in addition to 
the style of illumination, point to Winchester as the home of 
this missal. 

The date of the MS. may be inferred from the Paschal 
Tables, which are arranged in periods of sixteen years, and 
not in the usual Dionysian circles of nineteen years. They 
range from A.D. 1000 to 1095, and it is reasonably inferred that 
the missal was written during the earlier portion of that period. 
The latest saint commemorated in the volume is S. Dunstan, 
Archbishop of Canterbury, who died in 988. There is no 
mention of S. Alphege, who was martyred in 1012, and whose 
name became very speedily inserted in the Church Kalendar. 
The missal was, therefore, probably written before or very 
soon after that saint's death, and necessarily before its pre- 
sentation to the Abbey of Jumi^ges by Robert, while he was 
Bishop of London, 1044-1051. The character of the hand- 
writing, illumination, &c., is consonant with the assignment of 
the first half of the eleventh century as the period within 
which this missal must have been written. 

3. The missal known as the * Red Book of Derby ' derives 
its name from the colophon on its last page, which runs as 
follows : — 

*The rede boke of darbye in the peake of darby shire.' 

'This booke was sumtime had in such reverence in darbieshire, 

that it was comonlie beleved that whosoever should sweare untruelie 

uppon this booke should run madd.' 

Another entry in Archbishop Parker's handwriting says : — 

Digitized by VjOOQIC 

284 The Liturgy and Ritual July 

'This booke was given by Richard Hendesley esquier to M. 

It now forms part of the Parker collection of MSS. in the 
library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge (No. 422, 
olim S. 16). 

It is written on 293 leaves of dark vellum, 7^ by 5 inches, 
in a fair state of preservation, with the exception that many 
of the titles and almost all the vernacular rubrics are illegible 
from the decomposition and decolorization of the red paint 
in which they were written. As a missal this MS. loses much 
of its interest from not containing any * Proprium de Tempore ' 
or * Proprium de Sanctis.' ^ The Kalendar and Canon are 
immediately followed by a voluminous * Commune Sanctorum,' 
Missae Votivae, certain Manual offices, and a limited * Com- 
mune Sanctorum ' of the Breviary offices. Ornamentation is 
confined to the opening pages of the Canon. The stem of 
the initial * P ' of the * Per omnia saecula ' extends down the 
full length of the page, with a double zoomorphic termination 
at the top of its stem, and a single beast's head at the end of 
its loop. On the next page two angels, holding ornamental 
wands, support a * Vesica Piscis,' within which is a representa- 
tion of our Lord with a book in His left hand, and the right 
hand elevated in the attitude of blessing, surrounded by the 
words * Vere dignum et iustum est.' It is probably meant as 
a picture of the Ascension, as in the case of a very similar 
drawing in an Anglo-Saxon Psalter in the Cambridge Uni- 
versity Library. On the next page there is a representation 
of the Crucifixion. The feet of our Lord have been obliterated 
by kissing. A weeping female figure, S. Mary the Virgin, 
stands on the left hand, pointing to the figure on the cross. 
Above it, on the right, the hand of the Father is pointing 
from the clouds. On the left a dove, as representing the 
Third Person of the Trinity, is flying downwards with a cir- 
cular chaplet in its beak. Both drawings are roughly executed 
in green with red outlines. The folded and fluttering drapery 
and the pointed feet and fingers are characteristic of Anglo- 
Saxon art in the tenth and eleventh centuries. 

The Paschal Tables range from 1061 to 1098, and the 
execution of this volume may be attributed to the earlier 
part of this period. The latest saint commemorated in the 
Kalendar is S. Alphege, Archbishop of Canterbury, martyred 
in 1012. The numerous commemorations of Bishops of 

^ The Drummond Missal, one of the few early Irish missals, is like- 
wise destitute of a * Proper of Saints.* 

Digitized by 


i882. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 285 

Winchester, and the special honour paid to the name of S. 
Grimbald, which is written in capital letters, both in the 
Kalendar and in one of the later litanies, lead us to place 
the first home of the MS. within the limits of that see. 

We have now described briefly the only three known 
extant missals which have any claim to the epithet of Anglo- 
Saxon. The chances are very great against any addition 
being made to their numbers by future discoveries. A small 
number of missals exist, written in the late eleventh century, 
before the introduction by S. Osmund of those modifications 
in language and ritual which constitute the famous Use of 
Sarum ; but although these MSS. exhibit some interesting 
features, it would not be within our province to describe them 
here at length. 

We pass on to a subject which will be of more interest to 
the general reader. Taking these early missals and a few 
other contemporaneous Service Books as our sole evidence 
and authority, we discover the following points in the ritual, 
discipline, and form of liturgy of the Anglo-Saxon Church, 
which are almost or quite obsolete in the Roman, and with 
one exception * in the Anglican, Church of the present. 

1. There is an entry in the Kalendar of the *Red Book of 
Derby,' against April 8, of ' Pascha Annotina,* and a * Missa in 
Pascha Annotina' is inserted in the Leofric Missal between Low 
Sunday and the Second Sunday after Easter. This * Pascha 
Annotinum' denoted a solemn and public renewal of their 
baptismal vows on the part of those who had been baptized, or 
probably also confirmed, at Easter-Tide in the preceding year. 
The ceremony seems to have taken place sometimes on a fixed 
date which might fall in Lent, sometimes on a day which fell 
after, and varied with the fall of Easter Day. The collect for 
this service ran thus : — 

* Deus, per cuius providentiam nee preteritorum momenta 
deficiunt, nee ulla superest expectatio futurorum, tribue per- 
manentem peractae, quem recolimus, sollempnitatis effectum, 
ut quod recordatione percurrimus semper in opere teneamus. 
Per.' 2 

Clergy who complain of the diflSculty of retaining the allegi- 
ance of the newly confirmed or of young communicants might 
revive with advantage a service in use in the parishes of 
England a thousand years ago. 

2. These missals contain an * Order of Public Penance ' ' 

* Communion in both kinds. ' Leofric Missal, f. 123^. 

' * Ordo agentibus publicam poenitentiam.' — Leofric Missal, f. 79^ ; 
Rouen Missal, 195a. 

Digitized by 


286 The Liturgy and Riiual July 

of notorious sinners on Ash Wednesday, and an * Order of 
Public Reconciliation ' on Maundy Thursday.* The ceremo- 
nial which accompanied this formal exercise of ecclesiastical 
discipline has been so fully described by Dr. Rock,^ that it is 
unnecessary to do more than to refer readers to his pages. 
Its restoration is alluded to as a thing much to be wished in 
the Commination Service in the Anglican Book of Common 

3. The practice of communicating the people in both 
kinds is evidenced by the language in which the act of com- 
munion is referred to in various collects. It is in the plural 
number, and refers to the body of communicants, and would 
never have been used had communion in one kind been the 
original rule. Some of these passages have been abandoned 
or modified in the present Roman missal, to fit in better with 
the modern practice of that Church, e.g. : — 

*Ipsi qui sumimus communionem huius sancti panis et calicis 
.... Cuius came dum pascimur roboramur, et sanguine dum 
potamur abluimur.' ^ 

* Haec sacrosancta commixtio corporis et sanguinis domini nostri 
ihesu christi fiat omnibus summtibus salus mentis et corporis, atque 
ad uitam setemam promerendam preparatio salutaris.' * 

For the italicized words the Sarum Missal substitutes 
' mihi et omnibus sumentibus ; ' the Roman Missal ' accipien- 
tibus nobis.* * 

* Repleti alimonia cselesti et spiritali poculo recreati.' ® 

The consecrated contents of the chalice were generally 
administered to the people through a metal reed or pipe. 
The silver pipe mentioned among the donations of Bishop 
Leofric to Exeter Cathedral ^ was probably used for this pur- 
pose. Sick and dying people were likewise communicated in 
both kinds, not separately but conjointly, by intinction. In 
the Leofric Missal the priest is ordered to dip the host in 
wine or water, and to administer it with a formula which im- 

^ * Ordo ad Reconciliandum.' — Leofric Missal, f. 104^, f. 195^. 

* Church of our Fathers^ vol. iii. pt ii. pp. 62, T^, 

' Leofric Missal, Dom. v. post Epiph. ; Fer. iii. in init. xL 
^ Rouen MissaL 

* So the Coll. at the close of the present Roman Canon : * Corpus 
tuum, Domine, quod sumpsi, et sanguis quern potavi,* &c., has been bor- 
rowed from the ancient Gothic missal, in which it runs : 'Corpus tuum, 
Domine, quod accepimus, et sanguis quern potavimus,* &c. 

* Leofric Missal, f. 170^. 

^ Silfren Pipe, Bodl. MS. Auct. D. 11, 16, f. 2a. 

Digitized by 


i882. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 287 

plied the presence of both kinds.^ The permission to sub- 
stitute water for wine is one of a class of objectionable 
permissions sometimes found in mediaeval offices, and was a 
preparatory step for the Canon of the Council of Constance 
in 1415 expressly ordering Communion in one kind only.* 
An exception to the general rule of communion in both kinds 
occurred on Good Friday, when all were bidden to receive the 
Communion under one kind only from the consecrated Host, 
which had been reserved from Maundy Thursday.' 

4. There was the solemn rite of Episcopal Benediction pro- 
nounced by the bishop in the course of the Canon, immedi- 
ately after the fraction of the Host, and before the Kiss of 
Peace. These benedictions consisted of three variable clauses, 
having reference to the festival for which they were provided, 
and of two invariable clauses, of which the catchwords only 
are usually written. They were in use on every Sunday and 
greater festival, and were either written in separate volumes, 
hence called Benedictionals, to be handed to the bishop when 
the proper time arrived, or they were accumulated together 
at the commencement or close of the sacramentary, or they 
were dispersed throughout the missal under the heads of the 
various masses to which they belonged. 

This Episcopal Benediction occupied a similar position in 
the old Gallican and Mozarabic Liturgies, and was perpetuated 
in England by the Sarum Use* up to 1549, and in various 
mediaeval French Uses.* It never formed part of the Roman 
Liturgy, except where it was borrowed from one of these 

The Benediction for the Festival of the Holy Innocents is 
appended as a sample : — 

* Omnipotens Deus pro cuius unigeniti ueneranda infantia infan- 
tum Innocentum cateruas Herodes funesti peremit seuitia, suae uobis 
benedictionis tribuat dona gratissima. Amen. 

*■ Et qui eis concessit ut unicum Deum Filium eius Dominum nos- 
trum non loquendo sed moriendo confiterentur, concedat uobis ut 

* The Rubrics are very curious. ^ Hie communicetur infirmus, et 
ponat {saardos) sacrificium in uino siue aqua dicens : Fiat commixtio 
corporis et sanguinis domini nostri ihesu Christ! nobis et omnibus acci- 
pientibus in remissionem omnium peccatorum, et uitam aetemam. Amen.' 

* Et sicfaciant illiper septem diesy si necessitas fuerit, tarn de commu- 
nione quant de alio officio. Detent eiiam ex minisiris sanctce Dei ecclesicB 
infirmis cum summa reuerentia per singulos dies decantare Uesperos 
et Matutinas* (f. 324^). ^ Mansi, Concilia^ xxvii. 728. 

* 5 Corpus Domini, sine vino consecrate, quod altera die remansit' — 
Leofric Missal, f. iioa. 

^ Sarum Missal, Burntisland, 1861, p. 622. 

* De Moleon, Voyages LiturgiqueSy pp. 59, 76, &c. 

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288 The Liturgy and Ritual July 

fidem ueram, quam lingua uestra fatetur, etiam mores probi, et uita 
inculpabilis fateatur. Amen. 

* Quique cos primitiuum fructum sanctae suse suscepit ecclesiae, 
cum fructu bonorum operum uos faciat peruenire ad gaudia seterne 
patriae. Amen. 

* Quod ipse prestare dignetur, cuius regnum et imperium sine fine 
perraanet in secula seculorum. Amen. 

* Benedictio Dei Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, et pax Domini 
sit semper uobiscum. Resp, Et cum Spiritu tuo.' ^ 

5. Every Sunday and festival, and almost every common 
or votive mass, had its proper preface. There are several 
hundred such prefaces in the Leofric and Rouen Missals, 
a number which has been reduced to ten in the present 
Roman, and to five in the present Anglican Rite. These 
prefaces vary in length. They are sometimes of great beauty, 
sometimes adorned with well-balanced antithesis, or with 
quaint conceits of thought, sometimes couched in language 
which expands the facts recorded in the Gospel for the day, 
or. which perpetuates and enlarges upon the life and character 
of some well-known saint. 

What could be more beautiful than the following preface 
for the Friday after the Third Sunday in Lent, embody- 
ing our Lord's interview with the woman at the well of 
Samaria ? ^ — 

'Vere dignum. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Qui ad 
insinuandum humilitatis suae m)rsterium fatigatus resedit ad puteum, 
qui a muliere Samaritana aquae sibi petiit porrigi potum, qui in ea 
creauerat fidei donum, et ita eius sitire dignatus est fidem, ut 
dum ab ea aquam peteret in ea ignem diuini amoris accenderet. 
Inploramus itaque tuam inmensam clementiam, ut contempnentes 
tenebrosam profunditatem uitiorum, et relinquentes noxiarum hydriam 
cupiditatum, et te qui fons uitae et origo bonitatis es semper sitiamus, 
et ieiuniorum nostrorum obsematione tibi placeamus. Per quem, etc.* 

Or take the following preface for St. Cuthbert's Day, 
which throws sidelights upon the life and character of one of 
the most popular northern saints. 

* Vere dignum, aeterne Deus. Cuius misericordia inestimabili??, 
sapientia inmarcessibilis mirabiliter erit in Sanctorum mentis ; quibus 
igitur diffusis in fide Saluatoris Ihesu Christi coruscantibus, diuine 
religionis plebs aepulis doctrine uariis depasta ad sinum matris confluit 
aecclesiae. Licet enim alii supplicio coronati, alii studio pie con- 
uersationis munerati, ceteri quoque adquisitione talentonim a 
familias ditati, tamen parilem gerentes militiam unico filio tuo domino 
cum glorie triumph© adsistunt Quorum numero beati Cuthberhti 

* Leofric Missal, f. 160^. ' Ibid, f. 93^. 

Digitized by VjOOQIC 

i882. of the Anglo-Saxon Chtcrc/i. 289 

presulis decorem sanctitatis festa recolentes tibi, domine, fauore 
uirtutum magnifico iocundemur. Eius, itaque, facibus genuine 
caritatis mentem sic dignatus es inflammare, et facundiam sermonis 
nectare superno mellire, ut diuersarum terminos gentium exemplis et 
documentis ui tui famulatus obsequium prepararet, ubique copiam 
adquisiti talenti fidelis seruus adferret. In pueritia quidem spirituali 
uaticinio ad presulatus officium meruit inuitari, qui postmodum 
multimodis miraculorum indiciis sinu oceani Anglos fidei dominice 
cultu roborauit. Et ideo cum Angelis/ ^ 

There is much beauty and fancy in other parts of these 
early masses besides the benedictions and prefaces. There 
is a tendency sometimes to play upon the words, of which a 
striking example is found in the following early Collect 
for the Festival of S. Mellitus, third Archbishop of 
Canterbury : — 

* Lsetificet nos, quesumus, mellita beati Melliti pontificis oratio, 
cuius festa celebrantes melliflua tue gratiae repleat dulcedo. J'er 
Dominum.' ^ 

But while exhibiting the gems of these ancient Service 
Books, we must not close our eyes to their defects. An 
objectionable element exists in the presence of many and 
lengthy exorcisms of persons and things which have been 
wisely removed in part from Roman, and entirely from 
Anglican offices. These exorcisms sometimes include a 
minute enumeration of the various parts of the body, as in 
the following prayer to be said over a baptized Energumen : — 

* Domine, Sancte Pater, omnipotens seterne Deus, per imposi- 
tionem scripture huius et gustum aqune, expelle diabolum ab homine 
isto, de capute, de capillis, de uertice, de cerebro, de fronte, de oculis, 
de auribus, de naribus, de ore, de lingua, de sublingua, de gutture, 
de collo, de corpore toto, de omnibus membris, de compaginibus 
membrorum suorum intus et foris, de operibus, de uenis, de neruis, 
de sanguine, de sensu, de cogitationibus, de omni conuersatione, ut 
operetur in te uirtus Christi in eo qui pro te passus est, ut uitam 
etemam merearis. Per. ' 

or a comprehensive list of ailments, as in the following extract 
from a * Benedictio Olei ' for use in anointing the sick : — 

* Prosit, Pater misericordiarum, febriles et dissenteria laborantibus. 
Prosit paraliticis, cecis, et claudis, simulque uexaticiis. Quartana, 
tertiana, et cotidiana excutiat frigora ; mutorum ora resoluat ; areniat 
membra reficiat ; dementiam mentis ad scientiam reuocet ; dolorem 

^ Leofric Missal, f. 258^. 

' This is taken from an eleventh-century Canterbury missal in C. C. 
C. C. No. 270 f. 86a. ' Leofric Missal, f. 3i2fl. 

VOL. XIV.— NO. xxvin. U 

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290 The Liturgy and Ritual July 

capitis, oculorum infirmitatem, manuuin, pedum, brachiorum, pec- 
torum, simulque et intestinorum atque omnium membroram tam 
extrinsecus quam intrinsecus et medullarum dolorem expellat' ^ 

or allusions to the attacks of monsters, and to the powers of 
necromancy : — 

* Morsus uero bestiarum, canum rabiem, scorpiorum, serpentum, 
uiperarum, atque omnium monstruosorum leniat dolores, et su- 
perinducta sanitate plagarum sopiat cicatrices. Impetum quoque 
demonum, uel incursiones inmundorum spirituum, atque legionum 
malignarum uexationes, umbras et inpugnationes, et infestationes. 
Artes quoque maleficorum, chaldeorum, augurum et diuinorum in- 
cantationes et uenena promiscua, que spirituum inmundorum uirtute 
nefanda et exercitatione diabolica conficiuntur iubeas, domine, per 
hanc inuocationem tuam ab imis uisceribus eorum omnia expelli.' * 

Another objectionable element exists in the frequent invo- 
cations of and prayers to the saints, which are found provided 
for use in all the service books of this date. Such appeals 
for the assistance of the saints assume three different shapes. 
Firstly, the indirect, to which no objection can be taken ; the 
prayer being directly addressed to God, that the petitions of 
such and such a saint or saints may be accepted on the wor- 
shipper's behalf. Instances of this kind abound in all the 
early Sacramentaries, Roman and other. The doctrine is 
thus stated in a preface for S. Tyburtius : — 

* Vere dignum aeterne Deus. Qui dum beati Tyburtii martyris 
merita gloriosa ueneramur, auxilium nobis tuae propitiationis adfore 
deprecamur, quoniam credimus nos per eorum intercessionem, qui 
tibi placuere, peccatorum nostrorum ueniam impetrare. Per.' * 

This belief in the efficacy of the prayers of departed saints 
finds endless variety of expression, of which one more sample 
must suffice : — 

' Concede, quesumus, omnipotens deus, ut intercessio nos sanctae 
dei genetricis Marige, sanctorumque omnium Apostolorum, Martyrum, 
Confessorum, ac Virginum, et omnium electorum tuorum ubique 
laetificet, ut dum eorum merita recolimus patrocinia sentiamus. Per.' * 

Secondly, there is the direct form of address to saints, 
confining itself to a request for their prayers in the well- 
known formula * Ora pro nobis.' For this purpose saint after 
saint is invoked in a certain order of classification, and in the 
form of a litany. Such litanies are found in all the pre- 
viously described Anglo-Saxon Missals. They are sometimes 
of great length. The litany in the Leofric Missal invokes, 

^ Leofric Missal, f. 3500:. * Ibid, f. 351^. 

3 Ibid, f. 1850:. * Ibid. f. 216^. 

Digitized by 


i882. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 291 

after the Blessed Virgin Mary, angels and apostles, fifty- 
four martyrs, fifty-one confessors, twenty-nine virgins and 

Thirdly, there are direct prayers to the saints, not only 
requesting their intercession, but their succour in danger, de- 
fence in life's temptation, consolation in trouble, and so forth. 
The following specimen is taken from a tenth-century Anglo- 
Saxon Book of Devotions. It is a prayer to S. Benedict, 
written for the use of a monastic community which observed 
his rule : — 

' Clarissime pater et dux monachorum, Benedicte, deo dilecte, 
nuUi Sanctorum in orbe terrarum uirtutibus inferior, qui dum Christo 
iuxta nominis presagium meruisti placere, legem sanctam et bene- 
dictam monachis instituisti, adiuua me remissionem consequi pecca- 
torum. Eripe me, pie pastor sancti ouilis tui, ouem infirmam ab 
infemalium fame luporum ; rieglegentias meas cotidianis Sanctis 
precibus tuis absterge ; mentem meam ad amorem tuorum conuerte 
preceptorum ; uitam meam iustifica ; actus meos guberna ; cogitationes 
purifica j animam custodi \ corpus tuere, et adiuua me cotidie in 
preceptis tuis proficere, teque patrem piissimum toto corde diligere, 
et omne quod contrarium Deo est despicere, sicque in presenti 
uiuere, ut tormenta etema euadere, et illuc ualeam pertingere ubi tu 
sine fine cum Christo regnas. Amen.' ^ 

But the saint most frequently and passionately invoked, 
and to whom the most extravagant epithets were applied, 
trenching upon the Divine prerogatives, was the Blessed 
Virgin. Mariolatry is no very modern development of 
Romanism. There was a mass in her honour^ every Satur- 
day, in accordance with the hebdomadal arrangement of votive 
masses drawn up by Alcuin. She was then, as now, invoked 
next after God in all litanies, before archangels, and angels 
and apostles ; and whereas other saints were invoked once, her 
invocation, as now, was generally triple.'* She was not only 
' Dei genitrix ' and * Virgo Virginum,* but in a tenth-century 
English litany she is addressed thus : — 

' Sancta Regina mundi, ora pro nobis. 
Sancta Saluatrix mundi, ora pro nobis. 
Sancta Redemptrix mundi, ora pro nobis.' * 

In another Service Book of the same date^ there is a 

* Leofric Missal, f. 266^?. 

* Cott. MSS. Tit. D. xxvii. f. 89*5. 

^ It is entitled ' In Honorem Sanctae Mariae.' — Leofric Missal, f. 215/1;. 

* As in the Litany * In Sabbato Sancto' in the present Roman Missal. 

* Psalter at Salisbury, MS. 180, f. I7i<^. 
« Tit. D. xxvii. 

U 2 

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292 The Liturgy and Ritiml July 

drawing of the Trinity, in which the Father and the Son are 
represented as aged men, somewhat alike, each with a cruci- 
ferous nimbus, and each with the right hand extended, and 
holding a book in the left The place of the third Person is 
occupied by Our Lady with the Child in her lap holding a 
book, and with the dove, as an emblem of the Holy Ghost, 
resting upon her crowned head. Satan bound in chains 
under the feet of the central figure is being thrust into the 
open jaw of a monster representing hell, and Arius and Judas 
Iscariot, with ankles manacled, occupy the two lower corners 
of the design. This picture is followed by prayers to the 
Blessed Virgin, some of the expressions in which are quite in 
keeping with her elevation into a throne of equality with the 
Blessed Trinity. They are somewhat lengthy ; but as they 
•have never been published, perhaps their length will be par- 
doned on the score of their importance towards gaining a true 
estimate of the doctrines in vogue in the English Church 
before the Conquest : — 

*■ Singularis gratia, sola sine exemplo mater et virgo Maria, quam 
Dominus ita mente et corpore castam inuiolatamque custodiuit, ut 
digna existeres ex qua sibi nostre redemptionis pretium Dei Filius 
corpus aptaret, obsecro te, misericordissima, per cuius partum totus 
saluatus est mundus, intercede pro me misero, spurcissimo, cunctis 
iniquitatibus fedo, ut qui ex meis actibus nihil aliud dignus sum quam 
eternum subire supplicium, sed tuis, Virgo splendidissima^ saluatus 
meritis et intercessionibus perenne celorum consequar regnum, 
annuente Ihesu Christo Filio tuo Domino nostro. Qui cum Patre, 

*0 Virgo Virginum, Dei genitrix Maria, mater Domini nostri 
Ihesu Christi, regina Angelorum et totius mundi, oraculum eternae 
uitae, claritatis ^ celorum, que nee primam similem uisa est habere 
sequentem, per pretiosum sanguinem filii tui Domini nostri Ihesu 
Christi, quern in pretium nostrse salutis effudit, et per sanctam, et 
venerabilem, et salubrem crucem eius, in qua adfixus stare dignatus 
es[t] pro salute generis humani, qui est fabricator mundi, et inter 
mortis supplicium, quod ipse Dei Filius sponte pro nobis in cruce 
pati uoluit, se ^ suo discipulo sancto lohanni commendauit dicens 
"Ecce mater tua," adiuua nos, et per gloriosam resurrectionem eius 
adiuua me miserum peccatorem Sanctis meritis tuis et precibus 
tuis infirmitate corporis mei et animse meae nunc laborantem, et in 
hora exitus mei ex hac presenti uita, et in omnibus tribulationibus 
et angustiis meis, et in omnibus necessitatibus meis in hoc seculo et 
in future, illi ad laudem et gloriam et honorem, qui, &c.' ^ 

The following prayer to the Blessed Virgin is taken from 

» f. 82^. * Sic for claritas. » For te. * Ibid, f. 84^. 

Digitized by 


f 882. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 293 

the Book of Ceme, written a century earlier than the MS. 
from which the previous extracts have been made.^ 

' Sancta Dei genitrix, semper uirgo, beata, benedicta, gloriosa et 
generosa, intacla et intemerata, casta et incontaminata, Maria im- 
maculata, electa, et a Deo dilecta, singulari sanctitate predita, atque 
orani laude digna, que es interpellatrix pro totius mundi discrimine, 
exaudi, exaudi, exaudi nos, sancta Maria. Ora pro nobis, et inter- 
cede, et auxiliare(i) ne dedigneris. Confidimus enim et pro certo 
scimus quia omne quod uis potes impetrare a Filio tuo Domino 
nostro Ihesu Christo, Deo omnipotenti, omnium sseculorum rege, 
qui uiuit cum Patre, &c.' ^ 

Although prayer of this description was most frequently 
addressed to the Blessed Virgin, it was by no means confined 
to her. Angels were directly appealed to. Other saints, espe- 
cially patron saints, were frequently objects of devotion, suQh , 
prayer being especially addressed to S. Peter among the 
Apostles, and to S. Michael among the Angels, who were 
both believed to be endowed with exceptional powers. One 
example of a Collect to each of them is subjoined, with its 
heading, taken from the Book of Cerne. 

^Oratio ad Sanctum Petrum. 
'Rogo te, beate Petre, Princeps Apostolorum, et Clavicularius 
regni cselestis, qui (habes) potestatem a Domino nostro Ihesu Christo 
animas ligandi atque soluendi, coelum claudendi et aperiendi (uir- 
tutem) suscepisti ; subveni mihi, pius intercessor, ut per tuae pro- 
tectionis auxilium absoluar, et infemi tenebras euadere, et portam 
regni caelestis, te aperiente, merear intrare, per summum Pastorem 
et sanctissimum obsecro te, cui dixisti, " Tu es Christus filius Dei 
uiui," cui gloria in ssecula saeculorum. Amen.* ® 

'Gratio ad Sanctum Archangelum Michahelem. 
*Sanctus Michahel, Archangelus Domini nostri Ihesu Christi, 
qui uenisti in adiutorium populo Dei, subueni mihi apud altissimum 
iudicem, ut mihi peccatori donet remissionem omnium peccatorum 
meorum. Propter magnam miserationum tuarum clementiam ex- 
audi me, sancte Michahel, inuocantem te. Adiuua me maiestatem 
(tuam) adorantem. Interpelle pro me gemiscentem, et fac me 
castum ab omnibus peccatis. Insuper obsecro te preclarum atque 
decorum summe diuinitatis ministrum, ut in nouissimo die benigne 
suscipias animam meam in sinu tuo sanctissimo, et perducas earn 
in loco refrigerii, pacis, et quietis, ubi sanctorum animse cum Isetitia 
et innumerabili gaudio futurum indicium et gloriam beatse resur- 
rectionis expectant, per eum qui uiuit, &c.' ^ 

Enough of original material has, it is hoped, now been 

' Now in Cambridge University Library, 4^, i. 10. 

2 Fol. 77b. 3 Ibid, fol. 80^. * Ibid. fol. 76b. 

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Google — 

294 Principal Shairp's Writings. July 

brought before the reader to substantiate our two assertions : 
firstly, that these ancient Service Books oi the English Church 
are replete with collects and other devotional formulae of 
great delicacy of thought and beauty of expression, differing 
as widely from modem compositions of the same character 
as fine old specimens of Venetian glass or Dresden china 
are superior to the wares exposed in a nineteenth-cen- 
tury shop window ; secondly, that although the language is 
beautiful, the matter is often most objectionable. It is 
curious to think that a Church which tolerated the above 
prayers to the Blessed Virgin Mary and other saints should 
have been looked upon by the leading bishops at the time of 
the Reformation, and should be described by recent Anglican 
historians, as a model of primitive and orthodox simplicity* 
As we read them we wonder that the reformation of our for- 
mularies did not take place in the tenth instead of in the six- 
teenth century. Their perusal leaves us more satisfied with 
what we have got, and less inclined to grumble at what we 
have lost, in our own Book of Common Prayer. It is hoped, 
too, that the taste afforded here of the contents of ancient 
MSS. may whet the public appetite to demand further pub- 
lication of these documents. On purely literary grounds, 
we may appeal to the various learned societies in Lon- 
don, and to the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, 
to unlock the. treasures of our large public libraries. On 
ecclesiastical grounds we desire to have published these 
repertories, of beautiful prayers, applicable for every festival, 
and in almost every emergency, which it is hoped may be 
borrowed for use, or at least may serve for models of com- 
position, whenever from time to time devotions for special 
occasions are put forth by authority in the Church of 

Art. III.— principal SHAIRP'S WRITINGS. 

1. Culture and Religion. By J. C. Shairp, Principal of the 

United College, St. Andrews. Fifth edition. (Edin- 
burgh, 1875.) 

2. Studies in Poetry and Philosophy. By J. C. SHAIRP. 

Second edition. (Edinburgh, 1872.) 

3. Robert Bums. By Principal Shairp, &c. (London : 

Macmillan and Co., 1879.) 

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iBZi. Principal S/tairp's Writings. 295 

4. Aspects of Poetry : being Lectures delivered at Oxford. 
By John Campbell Shairp, LL.D., Professor of 
Poetry, Oxford, and Principal of the United College, 
St. Andrews. (Oxford, 188 1.) 

We hope that the first and second of these volumes are 
already well known to many of our readers. They are, 
indeed, books to be kept at hand : books eminently helpful 
and suggestive. It is something to get from one who is 
neither a clergyman, nor even, we believe, a professing 
Churchman — or, to use the Scotch phrase, an Episcopalian — 
so impressive a testimony in favour of the religious view of 
life as we find in Dr. Shairp's pages. In the five lectures on 
* Culture,* for instance, to which it was the privilege of the 
students of St. Andrews to listen, he shows that culture 
cannot supply the place of religion, but must at once * em- 
brace ' it and * end in ' it, unless the whole existence of a 
spiritual element in humanity can be first disproved ; on the 
other hand, that religion must recognize culture on the ground 
of the Divine origin of all those manifold capacities which 
are to be fostered and developed in the spirit of that Apostle 
who set the seal of Christian sanction on whatever was true, 
venerable, loveable, and of good report. He urges that 
the purely * scientific theory of culture ' takes no adequate 
account of man as a moral being, and ignores facts which are 
as real and momentous as any facts in the world ; while the 
' literary theory ' degrades to a secondary place * that which 
should be supreme,* and thereby in effect annuls it. For 
religion must be supreme if it is to exist ; and if it is recog- 
nized merely as a constituent in the polishing and informing 
of self, instead of being accepted as the means of living for 
God as the chief end of man, it becomes a thinly-disguised 
aestheticism. We wish that all students in our English Uni- 
versities would ponder the considerations laid before their 
Northern brethren in the fourth and fifth of these lectures. 
The Principal of St. Andrews has a clear view of the attrac- 
tions, for instance, which the scientist and positivist systems 
have for many energetic minds. But against the idolizing 
of system, against the dislike of mystery, against the exag- 
geration of the logical faculty as a criterion of truth, he warns 
his hearers and readers 'that the root-truths on which our 
being rests are apprehended, not logically at all, but mys- 
tically ; ' that although to say this is not to resolve religion 
into * a vague religiosity ' or sentimentalism, although religion 
appeals to * facts of consciousness,* and tells us of* other facts, 

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296 Principal Shairfs Writings. July 

revealed that they may fit into and be taken up by those needs 
of which we are conscious/ yet in the process of apprehending 
these facts 'the mere understanding' must be subordinate: 
the primary agent is the opening of * the spiritual ear ; * that 
beyond all evidential arguments there lies * a reserve fund of 
conviction arising from * Christian ' experience,' and ' that 
when all is said and done, it is trust, not criticism, that the 
soul lives by/ As means of spiritual growth he insists on 
prayer, meditation, study of great Christian lives, intercourse 
with true Christians : above all, * Try to bring understanding, 
imagination, heart, conscience, under the power of that master- 
vision,' * the Life portrayed by the four Evangelists/ The 
noble passage of which these words are a fragment ^ might be 
compared with Cardinal Newman's magnificent illustration 
from early Christian history of the fact that our Divine King 
* imprinted the image or idea of Himself on the minds of His 
subjects individually/ and that as 'the thought of God is the 
stay of the soul,' the thought of Christ was * the principle of 
conversion and fellowship,' of faith and zeal and joyous hope, 
of a martyr's * obstinate resolve/ ^ Perhaps we have quoted 
tco much, already, from this aureus libcllus\ but we must 
quote a few words more from the end of the last lecture, re- 
minding our readers that they were not uttered from S. Mary's 
pulpit, but in a non-ecclesiastical academic lecture-room within 
Scotland's old ecclesiastical metropolis, which can never, from 
the days of S. Regulus, have heard more deeply religious 
words : — 

* When we are young, if we are of an aspiring nature, we are apt 
to make much of our ideals. . . . And then that universal kingdom, 
which embraces in itself all these ideals, if not wholly disbelieved, is 
yet thought of as remote. But as life goes on, the ideals we set 
before us, even if attained, dwindle in importance, and that kingdom 
grows. We come to feel that it is indeed the substance, those the 
shadows. Were it not well, then, to begin with the substance, to learn 
to apprehend the reality of that kingdom, which is all around us 
now, whether we recognize it or not ... to surrender ourselves to 
it, that our lives may do something towards its advancement, and 
that so we may become fellow-workers, however humble, with all the 
wise and good who have gone before us, and with Him who made 
them what they were ? Only they who early thus begin 
* Through the world's long day of strife 
Still chant their morning song' (p. 132). 

Those who know Culture and Religion will know how brief 
and meagre a notice of it we have given here. But we have no 

^ Ctdture and Religion^ p. 105. 

* Grammar of Assent, pp. 458-472. 

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i882. Principal Shairp's Writings. 297 

space for more. We can but urge our readers who do not as 
yet know it, to make acquaintance with it, and let its spirit 
sink into their minds. We shall seem equally inadequate in 
our remarks on the Studies, one chapter of which — at first, 
we believe, published separately — will be familiar to many as 
a beautifully sympathetic * study ' of that beloved English 
Church poet with whose words, as we have seen, the lectures 
on ' Culture and Religion ' conclude. Principal Shairp does 
not in the least conceal his non-adherence to the * High 
Church ' or Tractarian theology. But how graphic is his 
picture of Oxford in the earlier days of the movement, when 

* in Oriel Lane light-hearted undergraduates would drop their 
voices and whisper, " There*s Newman ! " when, head thrust 
forw^ard, and gaze fixed as on some vision seen only by him- 
self, with swift noiseless step he glided by,* and * awe fell on 
them for a moment ; ' when * as the afternoon service of S. 
Mary's interfered with the dinner-hour of the colleges* (in 
this, as in other respects, tempora mutanUir), * the audience 
was not crowded,' and 'about the service the most remarkable 
thing was the beauty, the silver intonation, of Mr. Newman's 
voice as he read the Lessons,' and ' still lingers in memory 
the tone with which he read. But Jerusalem which is above is 
free, which is the mother of us all ; ' when in his preaching, 

* how gentle yet how strong, how simple yet how suggestive, 
how homely yet how refined, how penetrating yet how tender- 
hearted ! — through the stillness of that high Gothic building 
the words fell on the ear like the measured drippings of water 
in some vast dim cave.' And ' how vividly comes back the 
remembrance of the aching blank, the awful pause, which fell 
on Oxford when that voice had ceased, and we knew that we 
should hear it no more. ... To many, no doubt, the pause 
was not of long continuance. . . . But there were those,' he 
adds tenderly, * who could not so lightly forget,* who spent 
part of their Sunday leisure over * the printed words of those 
marvellous sermons, till they wept ' (it is a phrase of Dr. 
Newman's, referring to his Anglican ordination in 'that old 
church of S. Frideswide ') * abundant and most sweet tears.' 
He speaks of the Christian Year as ' evidently flowing from 
a native spring of inspiration : as far as it goes it is genuine 
poetry.' He naturally describes its more ' ecclesiastical ' poems 
as less spontaneous and less universal in interest ; * but in all 
its finer, more vital poems, the Catholic Faith has become per- 
sonal,' and among its most religious characteristics is the love 
which is blended with reverence for our Lord as *a living 
Friend.' And if any would draw from the more universal 

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298 Principal Skairfs Writings. July 

notes of the book ' an argument for Christian morality disjoined 
from Christian doctrine/ it may be as well to ask whether ' it 
would have been so charged with devout Christian feeling if 
its author had not held with all his heart those doctrinal truths 
which were in him the roots out of which that sentiment grew, 
but which many now wish to get rid of? If we love the am- 
summate flower, it might be as well not to begin by cutting away 
the root' (p. 299, and compare a similar sentence in p. 385). 

Besides religious feeling, Principal Shairp remarks on the 
presence in Keble's poetry of deep * home feeling,' of a ' tender- 
ness ' in which * there is no trace of effeminacy,' of a ' fine 
reserve ' (illustrated, e.g., by the poem for Mid-Lent Sunday), 
of interest in the quiet beauty of nature, but not in her 
'mysterious silence, inhuman indifference, inexorable deaf- 
ness,' which ' has impressed the imagination of the greatest 
poets with a vague yet sublime awe.' 

The essay on Wordsworth is the loving yet not undiscrimi- 
nating tribute of one who obviously includes himself among 
those who *look back to the time . . . when Wordsworth 
first found them, as a marked era in their existence' (p. 6). 
He traces the cause by which the future poet, embittered by 
the disappointment of his hopes as to the French Revolution, 
for a time ' abandoned moral questions in despair,' and then 
gradually regained * clear convictions * as to those * moral and 
spiritual truths ' which, says our author, * if they once reach a 
man, are their own sufficient evidence,' yet reach the intuitive 
class of minds by means of an experience incommunicable 
(p. 31;. He admits that Wordsworth somewhat exaggerated 
' the sanative powers of nature ' (p. 78), but points out that 
his later poems contain less of ' that mystical feeling about 
nature . . . but more recognition of those truths by which 
conscience lives, and which Christianity reveals ; ' and that, if 
he * has not fully harmonized the earlier with the later feel- 
ing,' he has yet done that work which Keble described in the 
dedication of his PrcelectioneSy * ut animos ad sanctiora eri- 
geret ' (p. loi). 

Again, in the essay on Coleridge we are reminded that he 
'laboured to remove religion from a merely mechanical or 
intellectual, and to place it on a moral and spiritual, founda- 
tion' (p. 213). But it is frankly admitted that his mode of 
thought was * pre-eminently subjective,' that his view of the 
relation of internal to external evidences was * a recoil ' from 
another extreme, and that it is a question whether in his 
zeal for inward truths he gave sufficient importance to those 
' miraculous facts which always must be, to the great mass of 

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i882. Principal Shairp's Writings. 299 

men, the main objective basis on which the spiritual truths 
repose/ — a momentous admission. 

JBut we must pass on to the most helpful portion of this 
book, the essay on the * Moral Motive Power.* In it the 
author states the problem, How to attain a right character } 
One must begin by observing the primary facts of moral 
nature. Following * what we may conceive to be the his- 
torical growth ' of man, one sees, first, mere impulses, then a 
consciousness of will, then a reflective appreciation of personal 
good, then the sense of a universal order, and of moral obli- 
gation towards it. But what is to * impel a man to persevere 
in aiming at ' a moral ideal ? What truth or truths urge the 
will onwards to that goal ? After considering the answers, or 
quasi-answers, given to that question by ancient and modem 
philosophers, ending with the Utilitarians, Principal Shairp 
finds them all unsatisfactory. Men want ' a rock higher than * 
themselves, a 'moral dynamic' exterior to their own re- 
sources. Fedsii nos ad Te, And thus the author is led to 
bring together (p. 367) the various lines of the Theistic 
argument, *the sense of a thoughtful plan* in nature, the 

* craving for a power, beyond all phenomena, of which tliey 
are but manifestations, the longing for an ideal perfection and 
beauty, the need of a satisfying object for the affections, the 
imperious question of "Whence," and, "chief of all,*' the 
inwardly felt law of obligation. That which our inner self, 
our personality, feels to have rightful supremacy over us, 
must be either a personality or something more excellent 
than personality, if that is possible. Lower than a person- 
ality it cannot be, and lower all mere laws and abstractions 
undoubtedly are' (p. 370: compare a similar thought drawn 
out in Prebendary Wace*s valuable lectures on Christianity 
and Morality^ and in his Bampton Lectures^ P- 45)- But Pro- 
fessor Shairp holds that 

* The existence of God is incapable of scientific demonstration. The 
notion of God is essential to the human mind, not derived from 
reasonings, but as a matter of fact actually called forth into distinct 
consciousness mainly by the conscience. When, however, we come 
to reflect on that belief afterwards, we find hints and confirmations 
of it, mainly in the existence of our moral nature and of the law of 
duty, and secondarily in those other lines of thought which, as we 
have seen, converge towards the same centre.* 

Principal Shairp knows Dr. Newman's sermons as well as 
any man, and better than most ; and his words remind us of 
the discourse for S. Thomas's Day in the second volume. But 
it will be felt by many that in this essay he exaggerates Dean 

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300 Principal Shairp's Writings. July- 

Mansers theory as to Divine morality, when he speaks of it 
as * denying ' that the word * righteous ' is used in the same 
sense of man and of God ; and he would himself admit, or 
rather contend, that since God must be infinite and incompre- 
hensible — since, as he says in the preface to Culture and Reli- 
gio7i, *our best notions of right and wrong are as inadequate 
to explain the facts of God's providence as to measure the 
greatest mysteries of revelation,* — we cannot see all round 
His righteousness, cannot fully explain how every act of His 
represents the one immutable idea of goodness.^ But how 
does Principal Shairp provide us with the conception of an 
adequate moral leverage? By pointing to Christ. Apart 
from Him, he contends, God is not manifested as a satisfying 
object for the affections. Christ was what had never before His 
coming been possessed by men, * a dynamic power of virtue,* 
which touched not the mere reason, but ' the whole man, by 
His words, by His deeds, above all, by contact with Himself' 
(p. 374). It did indeed. Perhaps it* would have been well 
to recognize explicitly the extent to which, before the Advent, 
as Dean Church has shown in a noble passage, the Psalmists' 
hearts went forth to God with an affection * so exulting yet 
so reverent, so tender yet so strong,' with * all-surrendering 
trust in His infinite and all-sufficing goodness.' ^ Yet, all this 
allowed for, it was the Incarnation that raised love for God 
to the height of a world -renewing energy. And our author 
has shown, in a passage of singular richness and beauty, that 
this new force includes the doctrines of the Gospel, * They 
are a large part of what makes Christ's character.' The 
Atonement, the Resurrection, the gift of the Holy Spirit, 
are mighty to awaken, to stimulate, to encourage, to propel, 
to uphold the human will in its struggles after goodness. 
Take them away, and Christianity ceases to be Christianity ; 
and it ceases at the same moment to be ' the moral motive 
power for man.' 

But, then, it is asked, is not morality ' of reason,' are not 
these doctrines * of faith ? ' He answers by a counter question. 
Has morality no concern with faith .? Do we not need faith 
to realize moral truth } And do not these religious truths, 
when apprehended vitally, and not received passively, * require 
but an expansion of that same principle of faith ?' So appre- 
hended, one feels that they are morally life-giving ; that to 
take the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount and ignore the 
personal claims of the Speaker, and the truths which grow 

^ See, on this point, the first article in volume v. of this Review. 
* Sacred Poetry of Early Religions ^ p. 67^ 

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1 882. Principal Shairfs Writings, 301 

out of His personality, is a hopeless business; and that *the 
dream of a Christian morality without a true Christian theology 
supporting and inspiring it from beneath ' is essentially and 
absolutely * vain/ He proceeds to contend that the Christian 
idea of virtue has been not merely negative but also positive ; 
that it has succeeded where humanitarian enthusiasm has 
failed ; that culture (as he says in the other book) can never 
be the end and religion the means ; that artistic * love of 
beauty ' may be a mere worship of a * golden calf/ by which no 
soul of man can be made noble, or kind, or pure. He concludes 
by recognizing as a fact, without discussing in detail, the 
existence in man of certain moral sentiments by which the 
truth of a revelation may be judged ; a fact on which he 
had dwelt in an earlier essay, suggesting * that both in the 
things of natural and revealed religion, the test that lies in 
man's moral judgment seems more a negative than a positive 
one/ and has to be applied with great caution and patient 
faith, such application being likely to result in a growing per- 
ception of previously unobserved harmonies, and a readiness 
to wait for a fuller solution of what may still * remain inex- 
plicable in the world, in man, and in Holy Writ' (p. 221^). 
Readers of Butler will remember his teaching on the subject, 
in the third chapter of the second part of the Analogy \ and 
there is a somewhat similar passage in Cardinal Newman's 
Grammar of Assent ^ p. 414. The essay on the * moral motive 
power/ which we commend to the special consideration of 
our clerical readers, who might well study it when they have 
to preach at the sacred seasons, concludes by exhorting 
Christian teachers never to set forth Christian duty or 
Christian dogma with their eyes, so to speak, turned away 
from the moral needs and instincts of man. * In the old 
words, the old truths, the old facts, more vitally and spiritually 
apprehended, because brought closer to the moral heart of man, 
they will find all they need ; ' and on the other hand, * there is 
no moral truth which is not deepened when seen in the light 
of God/ 

We shall say but very little of the volume on Burns 
which Principal Shairp has contributed to the series of 
English Men of Letters — * English ' being used in a large 
sense, which perhaps may displease a sensitive Northern 
patriotism. He gently rebukes those of his countrymen 
who so idolize their poet, * are so captivated with his brilliant 
gifts and his genial temperament, that they will not listen to 
any hint of the deep defects which marred them .... Those 
who ... try to canonize Burns are no true friends to his 

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302 Principal Shairp's Writings, July 

memory. They do but challenge the counter-verdict ' (p. 


For our own part, we can never forget the impressions 
produced by the Principal's account of Burns's last days and 
of his death, when read, as we read it, at Dumfries on a cer- 
tain 2 1st of July. He died on that day in 1796. 

We now come to the lectures delivered by Principal 
Shairp from the chair of Poetry, in which he is the successor 
of Keble and of Matthew Arnold. They cannot be ap- 
preciated, in that point of view to which we shall confine 
ourselves, without some reference to two of the preceding 
volumes. For there is a unity in the writer's teaching, which 
meets us in the Oxford lectures as elsewhere ; he is always 
and conspicuously a witness for the spiritual, as contrasted 
with the material and mechanical, view of man and of life. 
In the Studies he laments that the ' sensationalist * or non- 
spiritual philosophy is now again dominant, 'all but para- 
mount in the most ancient seats of learning,* and there is no 
' living voice * to speak with * counteracting authority on the 
spiritual side of philosophy ' (p. 236) ; so that now many, 

* baffled for lack of a consistent spiritual theor}'-, . . . are fain 
to fill their hunger with the husks of a philosophy which 
would confine all men's thoughts within the phenomenal 
world' (p. 317). In Culture and Religion (p. 30), he says that 
' the spiritual flood-tide ' in English thought was at its highest 
about 1840, and that *we seem to have come in during the 
last twenty years * (from about 1850) * for that ebb of the spiri- 
tual wave.* * Great material prosperity,* and a great increase, 
through physical sciences, of 'physical conveniences,' have 
provoked the spread of materialistic and secularistic reaction. 

* Man is * again made * the measure of all things,' that is, 
man viewed from a non-spiritual stand-point, and, so far, 
dehumanized. The present world is regarded as a ' satisfy- 
ing abode ;' the material order jostles out the moral ; the idea 
of God IS impoverished and attenuated ; and, as Dr. Liddon 
has said, many an educated man of our day is simply pre- 
vented by dominant habits of thought from treating God as 
the centre of his own and of all men's being.^ With many, 
as we know too well, this sovereign idea has become non- 
existent. So in these Aspects of Poetry, the Professor insists 
that * true poetry cannot dwell with a materialistic philosophy 
which disbelieves in all knowledge unverifiable by the senses,' 
that its function is rather to witness * for the ideal and spiri- 
tual side of things ' (p. 1 5) ; and he formally contradicts the 

* University Sermons, i. 8. 

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1 882. Principal Shairfs Writings. 303 

*non-morar theory of poetry, which holds that 'the g^eat 
poet must be free from all moral prepossessions/ must 'aim 
at a purely artistic effect, . . . delineate goodness and vice 
impartially, and let no shade of preference intrude * (p. 30). 
He contends that this will not do even in drama, and far 
less in other forms of poetry, ' epic, lyric, meditative.' They 
must aim at expressing the highest side of life. Great poetic 
geniuses who have ignored or abjured religion could not 
escape altogether from its influence, and were less great than 
they would have been if they had owned its sway.* Professor 
Shairp here feels it necessary to disclaim 'sectarian views* as 
to the function of poetry ; but, he says, poetry cannot have 
any fellowship with the sense-philosophy, 

* which refuses to believe anything which scalpel, or crucible, or 
microscope cannot verify , . . and empties man of a soul and the 
universe of a God. Such a philosophy would leave to poetry only 
one function — to deck with tinsel the coffin of universal humanity. 
This is a function which she declines to perform. But we need 
have no fear that it will come to this. Poetry will not succumb 
before materialism, or agnosticism, or any other cobweb of the 
sophisticated brain. It is an older, stronger birth than these, and 
will survive them ' (p. 34). 

Again, in a later lecture : 

* Poetry has this in common with religion, that it lives by that 
which eye hath not seen nor ear heard. Deny it this and it dies ; 
confine it to mere appearances, whether phenomena of the outward 
sense, or of the inner consciousness, and it is dried up at its very 
source ' (p. 68). 

He shows how the beauty of nature is something more 
profound and subtle than a mere sum of ' forms, motions, 
colours ; ' and how, the more we contemplate it, the more are 
we led, so to speak, into an inner presence-chamber, where 
the spirit dwells that constitutes the charm. The emotion, 
when examined, is moral in its basis. The thing seen speaks 
of the unseen, of a vast inexpressible magnificence or loveli- 
ness ; the mind says unconsciously, 'this is a parable.' Thus, 
to some natures, the sight of certain flowers touches the 
spring of old home-tenderness ; to others, the odour of incense 
is like an unfolding of the supernatural. It is like the power 
of music over susceptible temperaments, working in them (to 
quote the marvellous passage cited in the closing lecture from 
Dr. Newman's University Sermons^ as a specimen of high 
unmetrical poetry), 'mysterious stirrings of heart . . . and 
strange yearnings after we know not what, and awful impres- 

^ Compare Keble's Occasional Papers^ p. 153. 

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304 Principal Shairps Writings. July 

sions from we know not whence/ And then, a few pages 
further on, Professor Shairp again recurs to his favourite topic. 
He affirms that those who 

* can in no sense be called exclusively religious poets, if they grasp 
life with a strong hand, are constrained to take in the sense of a 
something beyond this life. To say this would, a few years ago, have 
sounded a truism : to-day it is necessary once more to reassert it 
For there have arisen among us teachers of great power, who would 
have us believe that, for artistic purposes at least, human life ... is 
a thing complete in itself, that it can maintain its interest and its 
dignity, even if confined within this visible horizon. . . In lieu of 
the old faith, both religious and poetic, which reached beyond the 
confines of earth, a new illuminating power has been sought, and is 
assumed to have been found, in duty to our fellow- men. Duty is not 
allowed to have an unearthly origin, to strike its root in any celestial 
soil. A piety without God is now, it would seem, to be the sole light 
vouchsafed to poor mortals yearning for light It is to supply to 
sensitive hearts all "high endeavour, pure morality, strong enthu- 
siasm," and whatever consolation may be possible for them. In 
opposition to this teaching, it is maintained that no poet ever yet has 
made, or ever can make, the most of human life, even poetically, 
who has not regarded it as standing on the threshold of an invisible 
world, as supported by divine foundations ' (p. 79). 

This, he says, is true not only of 'devout singers,' but 
of Shakspeare. He takes a view somewhat different, it will 
be observed, from that of Mr. Gladstone, who, while regarding 
Shakspeare as ' an undoubting believer,* considers that but a 
* small portion ' of his vast and varied * exhibition of human 
nature' is * seen on the side lying heavenward ;' * still more so 
from that of Professor Dowden, who, in his volume on our 
great poet, praises him for leaving great riddles of life un- 
solved, instead of having recourse to 'theological rushlights,' 
which avail not against * the great night overhead.' Professor 
Shairp says that there is in Shakspeare ' no pitch of passion, 
no depth of pathos, where the thought of the other world is 
not present ' (p. 80). 

Again, speaking of definitely religious poetry : 

'The system of thought which confines all knowledge to mere 
appearances, and all belief to things which can be verified by physical 
methods, leaves no place for it. . . . The Experience philosophy 
. . . whether it call itself Phenomenalism, or Positivism, or Agnos- 
ticism, or Secularism, in all its phases is alike chilling to the soul, 
and to soul-like poetry. No doubt it offers to imagination an ideal, 
but it is an ideal which has no root in reality. Without an ideal, 
imagination, which is an organ of the true, not of the false . . . can 

^ GleaningSj iii. 247. 

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f882. Principal Shairp's Writings. 305 

never be satisfied. . . . Negative philosophies may for a time pre- 
vail ; but they cannot ultimately suppress the soul, or stifle vivid 
intuitions which flash up from its depth and witness to its celestial 
origin ' (pp. 87, 90/). 

He asks whether Wordsworth's poetry 'would have been 
possible if he had not apprehended behind the natural and 
moral universe the ever-during power ' of a Divine presence 
{p. 89). Once more, after referring to types of poetry which 
represent inadequate ideals, he says that no devotion * to 
friendship, to country, to humanity, can by itself withstand 
the shock of circumstance, unless it is secured on a spiritual 
anchorage/ But * the poet who has himself laid hold on the 
spiritual world ' can * set before men ... an ideal which is 
real, an object ... for the aflTecttons, the conscience, the 
spirit, for the whole of man. . . . His voice is a continual 
reminder that, whether we think of it or not, the celestial 
mountains are before us, and thither lies our true destiny. 
And he is the highest poet who keeps this view most steadily 
before himself, and by the beauty of his singing, wakens 
others to a sense of it ' (p. 92). 

The same moral estimate of his subject appears in the 
iecture on Shelley : — 

'Was Shelle/s revolt only against the conventional morality of. 
his own time, and not rather against the fundamental morality of all 
time ? . . . Shelley may be the prophet of a new morality ; but it is 
one which never can be realized till moral law has been obliterated 
from the universe, and conscience from the heart of man. ... It has 
been said ' (by Arnold) ' that before an insoluble mystery clearly seen 
to be insoluble, the soul bows down and is at rest . . . Shelley 
knew nothing of this. . . . Before nothing would his soul bow 
down. . . . There is in him a profane audacity, an utter awelessness. 
. . . While a soul owns no law, is without awe, lives wholly by 
impulse, what rest, what central peace, is possible for it ? when the 
ardours of emotion have died down, what remains for it, but weak- 
ness, exhaustion, despair? The feeling of his weakness awoke in 
Shelley no brokenness of spirit, no self-abasement, no reverence . . . 
Such a belief, or rather no belief, as his can engender only infinite 
sadness, infinite despair ; and this is the deep undertone of all 
Shelley's poetry ' (pp. 231, 234, 254). 

It is characteristic of Professor Shairp to dwell aflTec- 
tionately and sympathizingly on Virgil as a man of tender 
and devout soul, retaining his faith in a supernatural world 
amid surroundings and influences which made other men 
worldlings or atheists. We are made to see him clinging, for his 
soul's sake, to old religious traditions, making the best use he 

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3o6 Principal Shairp's Writings. July 

could of them, although he felt that their strength was dying 
out ; softening the roughness of the old mythology, stretch- 
ing out his hands to whatever varied forms of religious 
language might give him a little support, or witness at all for 
the one supreme * Pronoia ; ' humbly accepting the severer 
aspect of life as disciplinary in its intention ; content to let 
his hero seem vapid and spiritless if he can make him 
represent a many-sided * piety ; ' sternly enforcing the awful 
idea of judgment in the next world for deeds done in the 
present ; singularly pure in feeling when society was steeped 
in foulness ; loathing * the guilty madness of battle ; ' ex- 
ceptionally indifferent to pomps and vanities ; mournfully 
sensitive as to what another great rural poet calls * man's in- 
humanity to man ; * unique among ancient singers in his 

* tender expression ' of the pathos of human life, * and of the 
most humane sentiment of the old world which Christianity 
took up and carried on into the new/ 

* Taking all these qualities of Virgil together, ... in him it may 
be said that the ancient civilization reached its moral culmination. 
Here was at least one spirit who lived and died in faith, and kept 
himself unspotted from the world' (p. 191). 

In this lecture, also, a passage on the natural and the 
human mediums for approaching the idea of God is a 
condensation of about six magnificent pages in Dr. Mozley*s 
essay on Blanco White,^ a few words of which are quoted, as 
the Professor's manner is, within inverted commas, but with- 
out reference (p. 174). 

Although Scott cannot be called, as Principal Shairp in the 
Studies calls Wordsworth, a 'native champion of spiritual 
truth,* he is claimed by Mr. Keble as exhibiting tendencies, 
which were never fully developed, towards Church religion,^ 
and by Mr. Keble's present successor as having ' turned the 
tide ' against the Illuminism of the eighteenth century, and 

* poured in full flood on the heart of European society ' the 
reviving sentiment of * affection for the past * (p. 105). A 
whole lecture is devoted to 'the Homeric spirit 'in Scott; 
Wordsworth's beautiful description of him as 'the whole 
world's darling' is twice quoted (p. 108, 325), and his 'won- 
derful human-heartedness ' and * winsome naturalness ' are 
touched upon with the warmth of such love as few poets 
have so widely inspired (pp. 108, 127). 

We must pass by several interesting chapters as furnishing 

^ Mozle/s EssaySy ii. 112^ 

^ Keble's Occasional Papers, p. 68. 

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i882. Principal Skairfs Writings. 307 

less illustration of thoso characteristics of Principal Shairp's 
writings on which we have thought it opportune to dwell. 
He devotes two lectures to two 'prose poets/ Thomas 
Carlyle and Cardinal Newman ; and in regard to the former, 
he shows how that idolatry of 'strong men/ apart from all 
questions as to their moral standing, which is the moral blot 
of Carlylism, resulted from the pantheism which scorned to 
associate character, in the full sense, with the ' unnameable 
centre of things,' conceived as an inscrutable, inexorable 
Power. One who liad given up, if he ever deliberately held, 
the faith in a living, personal, and all-good God, and practi- 
cally substituted for Him a mere Will or Force, would naturally 
take a one-sided estimate of ' the heroic' in man, and dispense 
with goodness where he could admire intensity. On this view^ 

* the strong intellect and the strong will are an emanation 
from the central force of the universe, and as such have a 
right to rule ' (p. 430). Yet, withal, Carlyle was 

* a prophet of the soul in man. He asserted, with all the strength 
that was in him, and in every variety of form, the reality of man's 
spiritual nature in opposition to all the materialisms that threatened 
to crush it. . . . He maintained the spiritual and dynamic forces in 
man as against the mechanical. While so many, listening to the host 
of materializing teachers, are always succumbing to the visible, and 
selling their birthright for the mess of pottage which this world offers, 
Carlyle's voice appealed from these to a higher tribunal ' (p. 422). 

We have already quoted one of several passages in which 
Professor Shairp draws out and interprets the deep sweet 
force of Dr. Newman's sermons. In the fifteenth chapter he 
speaks of the Cardinal as ' still remaining among us, in beau- 
tiful and revered old age.' He refers to some of the poems 
in the Lyra Apostolica^ e.g, the ' few impressive lines on the 
" Call of David/' rendering in a brief page of verse the whole 
outline of that wonderful life;' and points out the 'con- 
densed severity of the lines entitled " Deeds, not Words." * 
We can well suppose that he would agree with us in regard 
to the high poetic power of * Chastisement/ ' Hidden Saints/ 
'the Course of Truth,' and 'Patriarchal Faith.' He just 
alludes to the ' Dream of Gerontius/ but hastens on to the 
Parochial Sermons in which their author ' spoke out the truths 
which were within him with the fervour of a prophet and 
the severe beauty of a poet ; ' even as he had said in his 
StudieSy ' High poems they were, as of an inspired singer, 
or outpourings of a prophet, rapt yet self-possessed.' He 
describes Newman as ' laying the most gentle yet penetrating 
finger on the very core of things, reading to men their own 

X 2 • ! . ... • ?> 

Digitized by 


3o8 Principal Shairp's Writings, July 

most secret thoughts better than they knew them themselves ' 
(p. 444), as he had said before that * the sermons and other 
writings of Dr. Newman have shown what capacities the 
English language possesses of insinuating its tendrils into 
the deepest and most recondite veins of thought, as well as 
into the tenderest sentiment by which any spirit of man is 
visited' (p. 143). He notices the * intense idealism' which 
persisted in looking beyond the visible to the invisible, and 
believed that in the latter was truest reality ; the sense of 
a mystery brooding over human life, and over the life of 
dumb animals ; the resolution to * introduce some iron into the 
blood ' of a popular and easy-going religion ; the momentary 
pathetic glimpses of a ' very tender heart that had a burden of 
its own ;' and in connection with them he says most truly that 
the passages which thus hint or indicate such secrets are * what 
all high poetry is said to be, at once a revelation and a veil ' 

(p. 455). 

This is enough, and more than enough, to illustrate what 
^e said at the beginning as to the stores of timely teaching 
Avhich the reader will find in the writings of Professor Shairp. 
We hope that he will give us more of the same kind. The 
age wants all that it can get from teachers like him. Well 
would it be if many of the young minds to which he has 
spoken at Oxford or at St. Andrews would retain unimpaired, 
through the strife of tongues and the stress of engrossing occu- 
pation, and amid all the materializing influences which are in 
the air that they must breathe, an impression of that grave, 
gentle, yet urgent testimony for the reality of man's spiritual 
being, for the supremacy of the moral over the material 
order, for 'the belief,' as he himself words it, *that this world 
is but the vestibule of an eternal state,' for * the thought of 
Him in whom man lives here, and shall live for ever.' ^ Pro- 
bably some of his hearers may for a time become agnostics, 
or mere culturists, or mere scientists ; and yet this may not 
be the end. The Eternal Lover of souls is mercifully active 
in 'devising means whereby His banished be not expelled 
from Him.' Life is a great teacher, and some of its lessons 
may, all unexpectedly, make dreams and realities change 
places. Old lights may be rekindled, old truths reassert their 
vitality ; and a learner in this school, having found what this 
world can do for him and what it cannot, may bethink himself 
of what he heard, long years before, from one who was no 
'clerical zealot,' no 'hard dogmatist,' no 'conventional 
moralizer,' but knew how to speak from largeness of heart 
^ Aspects of Poetry^ p. 78. 

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1 882. Dr. Cyriacus Ecclesiastical History. 309 

a word in season to him that was weary, and help him to 
recognize the heights and depths, the needs and the capacities, 
of his own mysterious being, to believe effectively in man, 
and so to believe adoringly in God. 


^EiKKXrja-Laa-Ti/crj'Ia-TOpLa airo rrjs ihpvo'Stos t^^ 'E^- 
KXr^aias fii'X^pc r&v Kad^ rifiasypovtov. 'E#c Sia<f>6pa)v 
7rrjya)v ipaviadelaa virb 'A. ALOfii]oovsK.vptaKOVy A.^. 
Koi KaOrjyrjTov T7J9 ^soXoylas kv t& bOvlkw tlavsTriaTrjfitq). 
['E/; ^Adrjvais sk tov TV7roypa<f>eLov X. N. ^i\aBe\<f>i(0Sy 

1 88 1. TOfJLOS TTp&TOS, pp. 4OO ; TOfJbOS hsVTSpOSy pp. 584]. 

This is the most important book that has appeared in the 
Oriental Church for the last thousand years. It is important 
as a sign and as a means : as a sign because it indicates that 
life — literary life, ecclesiastical life, theological life, religious 
life — has come back to the Church which was so nearly 
crushed to death under the pitiless heel of Mohammedan 
oppression ; as a means, because it is the historical method 
above all others that is needed by Oriental Churchmen in 
order to show them what was, and what was not, the doctrine 
taught and held, and the discipline exercised, in those primi- 
tive ages to which they, as we, look back as the best guide 
and interpreter of revelation when revelation requires inter- 

The vast gap which intervenes between the early Greek his- 
torians and Professor Cyriacus is most significant. Eusebius, 
Socrates, Sozomen, Theodoret, Theodore, Evagrius are house- 
hold names with us. They lived in the fourth, fifth, and 
sixth centuries ; and even in the sixth century Theodore had 
begun the system of epitomizing the works of his predeces- 
sors. After Evagrius twelve hundred years pass away with- 
out the appearance of one Greek ecclesiastical historian worthy 
of the name, unless we should except Nicephorus Callistus, 
whose probable date is the fourteenth century. . It is true that 
ecclesiastical history may be gathered from the Byzantine his- 
torians, who wrote from the year 500 to 1500 ; but their works 
are primarily political or civil, and only touch on Church 
matters because the Church was so closely bound up with the 
later Byzantine Empire. From Nicephorus Callistus to the 

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3IO Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. July 

eighteenth century not one name of a Church historian 
appears, and then we only find such names as Dositheus, 
who wrote on the Patriarchs of Jerusalem ; Meletius, who 
composed a history in the old form of annals ; Eugenius 
Bulgaris, who confined himself to the first century after 
Christ ; Kometas, who epitomized Meletius ; Constantine 
CEconomus, who narrated the history of the Church of 
Greece proper from 1821 to about 1850 ; Constantine Conto- 
gones, who began writing a history, of which he published 
only one volume at Athens ; Lascaris, who compiled a very 
brief epitome, issued in 1863 at Constantinople. Our present 
author gave to the world a short historical analysis, which he 
had prepared for his pupils m 1872 ; and now, as we see, he 
has published an extended Ecclesiastical History worthy to be 
placed side by side with the best products of the genius 
of the West in the same sphere. 

It is not only in the department of ecclesiastical history, 
but in all theological literature, that the magnificent outburst 
of Greek genius and learning which was witnessed in the 
fourth and fifth centuries was succeeded by barrenness. 
From the middle of the fifth century independence, origi- 
nality, genius disappear. After an Athanasius, a Basil, a 
Nazianzen, a Chrysostom, a Cyril, we sink down, as it were 
in a moment, to a pseudo-Dionysius (who, however, as the 
author of Mysticism, has had a very powerful influence over 
the Church), a Hadrian, a Procopius, an Andrew of Caesarea, 
a Kosmas Indicopleustes, a John Scholasticus, a Maximus, a 
John Damasjcene, with whom, in the eighth century, the list of 
Oriental theologians ceases. After this period the only theo- 
logical names that history lingers over for a moment are 
Photius (A.D. 891), who was a learned and courageous man ; 
Simeon Metaphrastes, the legend-writer (A.D. 900) ; CEcume- 
nius the commentator (A.D. 990) ; Michael Cerularius, the 
patriarch (A.D. 1058) ; Peter of Antioch, the controversialist 
(a.d. 1053) \ Theophylact (A.D. 1074). The last-named 
throws a certain halo over an age for which he reproduced 
the teaching of Chrysostom. After him not one Oriental 
theologian is to be met with down to the capture of Constan- 
tinople in the fifteenth century.^ After the fall of Constanti- 

^ The following is a fairly full list of the remaining theological writers 
in the period between John Damascene and the fall of Constantinople : — 
Theodore Studita (790), Nicetas Paphlago (890), Peter of Sicily (890), Leo 
the Philosopher (911), Eutychius of Alexandria (940), Michael Psellus 
(1106), Nicetas of Serras (1106), Euthymius Zygadenus (called Zigabenus 
by Tollius, Cave, Schmitz, and in the Biblioiheca Patrum, but wrongly : 
see Annae Comnenae Alexiad, lib. xv. p. 490) (1106), Nicetas of Nico- 

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i882. Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. 311 

nople we cannot reasonably expect any literary excellence in 
the Greeks of the Turkish Empire ; nor do we find any 
except in Cyril Lucar. Liberated Greece produced at once 
Pharmacides and CEconomus ; and she may boast at the 
present moment as having for Professors in her University 
Cyriacus, Damalas, and Rhossis. 

Dr. Cyriacus has brought before his countrymen the results 
of years of study directed to the works of ancient Greek and 
Latin historians and theologians, and to modern German 
writers on ecclesiastical history, dogmas, and antiquities. 
We do not find evidence of the same familiarity on his part 
with English authors. In the list of the works of ecclesias- 
tical historians that is given in the preface we find no 
English books named except, in a modern Greek translation, 
^EtirvTOfial TfJ9 iKKKrfaLa(rTi/crJ9 laropias tov BAP© {iv Xfivpprf, 
1848), teal TOV IIAAMEP {h KcovaravrLvoinroXEi, 1877), the 
last a publication of the Anglo-Continental Society. In the 
headings of the chapters, indeed, we find a few more English 
names, as Routh, Lardner, Gibbon, Bingham, Soames, Stanley, 
Neale, Finlay ; but these are not sufficient to have prevented 
the account of English Church matters from being both 
meagre and occasionally inexact. 

The history is divided into four periods : the first from 
the commencement of Christianity to the reign of Constan- 
tine and the year 313 ; the second from the reign of Con- 
Stan tine to the Patriarchate of Photius, that is, from A.D. 313 
to A.D. 860 ; the third from the schism of the ninth century 
to the capture of Constantinople, that is, from A.D. 860 to 
A.D. 1453 ; the fourth from the taking of Constantinople 
down to our own days, that is, from A.D. 1453 to 1880. 
Naturally, the largest space is devoted to the history of the 
Eastern Church, and this gives its special interest to the 
work ; for in England and Germany, as well as in Roman 
Catholic countries, the greater proximity of the Latin com- 
munity, and the gigantic figures of an Augustine and an 
Ambrose, or a Gregory VII. and an Innocent III., have inter- 
cepted our view of the East, and led us almost to confound 

media (mo), Theodore Prodromus (mo), Nilus Doxipatres (1140), 
Nicolas of Methone (1180), Eustathius of Thessalonica (known better as 
a commentator on Homer) (i 185), John Zonaras (1185), Nicetas Acomi- 
natus or Choniates (1206), Nicephorus Blemmides (1255), John Canta- 
cuzenus (1255), Gregory of Cyprus (1280), Andronicus Comnenus (1327), 
Constantine Armenopulos (1340), Gregory of Thessalonica (1340), Nilus 
Cabasilas of Thessalonica (1350), Nicolas Cabasilas of Thessalonica 
(1360), Philotheus (1371), Theophanes of Nicaea (1371), Symeon of Thes- 
salonica (1429), George Scholarius, or Gennadius (1438). 

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312 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. July 

the history of the Latin Patriarchate with the history of the 
Catholic Church. For the history of the Church of the 
later Byzantine Empire, and of the Church of Greece proper 
since its liberation from Turkish misrule, and of the Church 
Catholic in our own days, we know of no book to which we 
can refer better than that which is before us. 

In the first period, that is, down to the time of Constan- 
tine, there is little to distinguish the historian of the Eastern 
Church from that of the Western ; but even here we cannot 
but see how simply, naturally, and in accordance with ancient 
documents, a member of the Eastern Church tells his tale 
without any of the spasmodic efforts which are made by 
Ultramontane writers to represent the relation of any one of 
the great bishoprics to the others as different from that which 
it really was. The comparison of heathen religions with 
Christianity, the severance of Christianity and Judaism, the 
spread of the Christian Faith, the persecutions, the Gnostic 
and other heresies, are treated with clearness and precision ; 
and attached to the narrative are chapters on Christian theo- 
logical literature, on the constitution of the Church, and on 
the religious life of the period. As to Church government 
in the first period, the Professor recognizes the threefold 
ministry of the Church, consisting in Apostolic times of 
apostles, presbyters or bishops, and deacons; in the next 
generation, of bishops, priests, and deacons. The marriage 
of the clergy is allowed to be the rule in the first, second, and 
third centuries. The origin of metropolitical power is traced 
to the fact that the Metropolitans were the Bishops of the 
chief city of the civil province. Of these Metropolitans the 
chief were the Bishops of Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch : 
the Bishop of Rome holding metropolitan rights over the 
centre and the south of Italy, the Bishop of Alexandria over 
the whole of Egypt, and the Bishop of Antioch over the 
whole of Syria ; and the Bishop of Rome being distinguished 
above the other two because Rome was the Imperial city. 
The Professor points out that the idea of S. Peter having 
established the Church in Rome is first met with in the 
Pseudo-Clementine Homilies, and that Leo I. was the first 
Pope who justified the primacy of the Papal See by appealing 
to the text 'Thou art Peter.* He recounts the struggles 
between Polycrates and Victor, Cyprian and Stephen, in the 
manner in which they are ordinarily related by Anglican 
historians, and explains the well-known passage of Irenaeus 
as to the Potentiorem Principalitatem ^ as follows : — 

^ ^Ad banc propter potentiorem principalitatem necesse est omnem 

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1 882. Dr, Cyriaciis^ Ecclesiastical History, 3 1 3 

* The meaning of this difficult passage, which we only have in 
this unfortunate Latin translation, is that the conflux of the faithful, 
drawn from all sides to Rome by the necessities of their business, 
because that city was the first and most distinguished city of the 
Empire, tended to the preservation in it of the apostolic tradition, 
because these men carried to it the report of the faith of the Churches 
to which they. belonged ' (p. 163). 

The unity of the Church during the three first centuries 
is described as follows : — 

* The inward unity of faith and love effectuates the external unity 
of the Church, which the political unity of the Roman Empire made 
the more easy ; and this external unity was not shown by submission 
to any one bishop. All the particular Churches— those of Achaia, 
Macedonia, Asia, the East, Egypt, Africa, Italy, Gaul, &c. — were 
autocephalous and independent of one another, but bound together 
by the inter-communion in love of Bishops and Churches, by their 
mutually sending help in time of need, by letters, and above all by 
Synods. The name of Catholic was given to the Church spread 
throughout the whole world in opposition to the different heresies 
and schisms which were only found in special places' (p. 164). 

The following is an honest statement of the views enter- 
tained in the Church at the end of the third century on the 
subject of Invocation of Saints : — 

* The Christians honoured and loved the martyrs as likenesses of 
Christ ; and already some traces of a belief are found that they 
might be able to give help either now or in the future judgment. 
Great significance was awarded to the prayers of the martyrs for the 
Church ; but we do not meet with any example of their invocation. 
Only the martyrs were besought before they died to pray for the 
Church after their death* (p. 177). 

He allows also that during these three first centuries 
images or likenesses of Christ were not admitted into 
churches. On the subject of marriage we observe that he 
falls into the not uncommon mistake of understanding Ter- 
tullian's words, * confirmat oblatio,' to mean that the Holy 
Eucharist was celebrated at them. 

The part of ecclesiastical history which succeeds to that 
of the first three centuries is far more trying to the historian 
than the first part. There is a unity in the history of Chris- 
tianity, as it develops from the Day of Pentecost to the con- 
version of Constantine, which no one can miss, and which the 

convenire ecclesiam, hoc est, cos, qui sunt undique fideles, in qua semper 
ab eis, qui sunt undique, conservata est, quae est ab apostolis traditio ' 
{Adv, Hcer. iii. 3). 

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314 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. July 

historian has only to follow ; but after Constantine the stream 
soon becomes the ocean, and there is need of a good pilot to 
prevent our being lost in the various currents which, if their 
general direction be the same, appear at times to be flowing 
from every quarter of the compass. The difficulty is con- 
siderably increased when the period beginning A.D. 3 1 3 is not 
made to end till A.D. 860. In the selection of the latter date 
we see the Eastern Churchman, in whose eyes Photius stands 
out as a far greater personage than he appears to most 
Westerns. It is, however, from any point of view, a sufficiently 
reasonable date to have selected, inasmuch as it brings us in 
view of the great schism which, commencing then, was 
brought to its completion two hundred years later. 

The author finds his way securely, and glides the reader 
safely, through the intricacies of the Arian, Semi-Arian, Pho- 
tinian, Macedonian, ApoUinarian, Pelagian, Nestorian, Euty- 
chian, Monothelite, and other minor heresies, and gives a short 
account of the Donatist schism. The last controversy of the 
period was that on the subject of images. On this point Dr. 
Cyriacus defends, as in duty bound, the official teaching of 
his Church ; but he makes allowances which are creditable to 
his candour. He allows that in the eighth century the wor- 
ship of Icons had in many cases turned into actual idolatry, 
owing to the ignorance of the masses, and that it encouraged 
their superstitions. He can recognize the purity of motives 
which led Leo the Isaurian to forbid honour being paid to 
Icons, in order to put a stop to the superstitions which resulted 
from their worship, and he can sympathize with the Emperor's 
desire to smooth the way for the Jews to embrace Christianity 
by taking away a stumbling-block from their path. The fol- 
lowing passage is written with greater impartiality and breadth 
of view than might have been expected in an Oriental theolo- 
gian ; greater, too, than is often displayed by Western and 
English writers : — 

' The friends of the Icons agreed with their adversaries in this, 
that all latria of the Icons ought to be cast out of the Church ; but 
whilst the Iconoclasts thought that this could only be done by entirely 
forbidding the use of Icons, their defenders, who thought that the 
abuse should not hinder the use, and wished the Icons to be pre- 
served in the churches as ornaments, and as the books of the people, 
and as the means of calling to mind the history of the Christian 
religion, thought that the excessive honour paid to them, which pro- 
ceeded as far as idolatry, could be removed by the dissemination of 
knowledge among the people. When the Iconoclasts protested that 
the people made gods of the Icons, their friends replied : " You 
ought to enlighten the ignorance of the multitude." And then dis- 

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1 882. Dr. Cyriacus Ecclesiastical History, 315 

turbances followed. Owing to this partizanship there arose on one 
side an excessive and superstitious regard of the Icons, and on the 
other an unreasoning hatred for them. At length it became a struggle 
between the army and the hierarchy. . . . Some attribute to Sie 
Iconoclasts the purpose, not only of doing away with the worship of 
the Icons, but also, of bringing about a reformation of the ecclesi- 
astical, political, and social constitution of the times. Wishing to 
put down superstition, which was doing a deadly injury to the em- 
pire, they were for circumscribing the monasteries and lessening the 
number of the monks. They wished to laicize education, which was 
in the hands of the monks, and to do away with eunuchs, tortures, 
and other mischiefs ; but the fact is, that whether the objects of 
the Iconoclasts were useful reformations which could not then be 
effected, because they were before their age, and the age was not ready 
for them, or whether they were not, they did more harm than good, 
because by persecuting the monks and breaking up their schools they 
contributed to the destruction of such education as there was, with- 
out being able to establish any new system of education. The result 
was greater ignorance, and multiplied superstitions ' (p. 266). 

The historian proceeds to narrate the meeting of the synod 
of 338 bishops in the year 754, intended to be oecumenical, 
which condemned the adoration of images ; and that of the 
year J^jy consisting of 350 bishops, in the reign of Irene, 
accepted by the Greek Church as the seventh CEcumenical 
Council, which, under the Patriarch Tarasius, restored their 
worship. Professor Cyriacus does not tell us, and perhaps we 
can hardly expect that he should do so, that that Second 
Council of Nicaea was not duly summoned, and that its deli- 
berations were not free. That it was not accepted in the West, 
and was protested against by Charles the Great's Libri Caro- 
lini and by the Council of Frankfort and the English Church, 
is stated by him, but stated so briefly as not to make much 
impression on the reader. He also too briefly notices that it 
was not the so-called seventh Council, but the action of the 
weak woman Theodora, which fifty-five years after the Second 
Council of Nicaea established finally the adoration of images 
in the East. 

Attached to the historical narrative of the second period 
of Church history is an elaborate investigation of the growth 
of the power of the Sees of Constantinople and of Rome. 
Originally the Bishop of the chief city of each of the (civil) 
dioeceses into which Constantine divided the Empire was 
theoretically independent of and equal to each of the rest. But 
this could not last. In the Thracian dioecese Constantinople 
took the place of Heraclea, and in the Illyrian dioecese Rome 
took the place of Thessalonica. By degrees Rome, Constan- 

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3i6 Dr. Cyriacus Ecclesiastical History. July 

tinople, Alexandria, Antioch, Ephesus, and Caesarea emerged 
from the other metropolitan sees as superior in power. Soon 
Ephesus and Csesarea disappeared from the higher rank, an 
appeal from all the diceceses having been granted by the Fourth 
CEcumenical Council to Constantinople, and Jerusalem being 
elevated above Caesarea by a decree of the same council and 
by an ordinance of Theodosius II. Antioch, according to 
our author, never recovered its prestiee lost by its support of 
Nestorius, condemned at the Council of Ephesus A.D. 431. 
The condemnation of Eutyches and Dioscorus at the Council 
of Chalcedon gave a deadly blow to the power of the Alex- 
andrian throne. Soon, too, the three southern patriarchates 
were ravaged by the Arabian invaders. Thus there remained 
only the two rivals. Old and New Rome, representing, one the 
West, the other the East. The presence of the Emperor in 
Constantinople was a source both of strength and weakness 
to the Patriarch, while his political independence gave both 
courage and power to the Roman Bishop : — 

*The decree of the usurper Phocas, a.d. 606, by which the supe- 
riority of the Bishop of Rome over the whole Church was recognized, 
proceeded from political and personal motives, for Cyriacus, Patriarch 
of Constantinople, was a follower of Maurice, whom Phocas mur- 
dered, in order to mount the imperial throne. Anastasius says that 
Boniface III., Pope of Rome, obtained from Phocas, the Emperor, 
** that the apostolic see of the blessed Peter the Apostle should be 
declared the head of all the Churches, because the Church of Con- 
stantinople had called herself the first of all the churches." But 
Phocas's decree was not fully carried out even in the West. Both 
these patriarchs were victorious within the range of their own juris- 
diction ; but owing to political circumstances this range became in 
one case curtailed, in the other extended ' (p. 358). 

Dr. Cyriacus finds two stages in the development of the 
Papal power : the first beginning with Leo the Great, who for- 
mulated the idea that Papal authority arose from the Bishop 
of Rome being a successor of S. Peter, and extending to 
the time of Gregory the Great ; the second commencing 
when Pepin gave temporal power to the Popes in the year 
754 :— 

* Thus we see the Bishop of Rome in apostolic times simply the 
bishop of that city ; from the second century onward a powerful 
metropolitan ; then gradually raised by different historical circum- 
stances to great influence, and claiming the full government of the 
Church. These insolent claims of the Popes, which were from the 
beginning rejected by the East, we shall see to have been in the 
ninth century the chief reason of the schism between the Eastern 
and Western Church ' (p. 366). 

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1 882. Dr, Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. 317 

The third section of the history, from A.D. 860 to the fah 
of Constantinople in 1453, contains an account of the origin 
and consummation of the schism between the Eastern and 
Western Churches, written with calmness and fairness from 
an Eastern Churchman's point of view ; and this is indeed the 
first historical narrative which we have of that great event 
written from the Eastern side, though the Eastern cause has 
been more or less defended from a sense of justice by Anglican 
and foreign Protestant historians. Cyriacus begins by laying 
down, with Neander, the causes of the schism as being the 
doctrine of the Filioque (of which he gives an impartial his- 
tory), a difference in Eastern and Western teaching on the 
subject of human liberty, the differences in discipline which 
were brought to the surface by the condemnation of Roman 
practices in the Council of TruUo ; but, above all, the over- 
bearingness of the Popes in their attempts to subject the 
Eastern Church to themselves. These being the reasons of 
the schism, an occasion was found in the deposition of Igna- 
tius from the patriarchal throne of Constantinople and the 
elevation of Photius. Nicholas I. was at that time the Pope, 
and acting upon the principles of the decretals of Isidore, 
which had a short time before been forged, he claimed the 
right of settling the dispute between the two claimants for the 
patriarchal throne of Constantinople, and declared Photius 
deposed. The relations of the two great sees were further 
embittered by a quarrel as to their rights of jurisdiction in 
Bulgaria. In the year 867 Photius published an encyclic 
letter, in which he put together all the grievances which the 
Easterns had against the Westerns, and at the head of a 
thousand bishops excommunicated Nicholas just as Nicholas 
had excommunicated him. Thus the schism was more than 
begun. It did not, however, reach its final and, we may say, 
its official completion till two centuries later, in the time of 
Michael Cerularius. We need hardly say that Photius holds 
a very different position in the eyes of an historian of the 
Eastern Church from that which he occupies in the pages of 
Latin writers. With our present author Photius is *the 
wisest man of his age,' *a man of great political skill,* '^a man 
who summed up in himself all the learning of the day,' an 
author of * 297 works in theology, history, geography, phi- 
losophy, rhetoric, grammar, mathematics, and medicine,' 
besides his famous Nomocanon. On account of his learning 
and his struggles for the independence and for the doctrines 
of the Eastern Church, he takes his place among * the chief 
fathers of that Church ' : — 

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31 8 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. July 

* Photius is the man who saved the Eastern Church from the 
tyranny of the Pope. Without him the Eastern Church was in 
danger of submitting to popery, and if this had taken place it would 
soon have been destroyed, losing its traditions, and receiving Latin- 
ism. All the evils into which the Western Churches fell in the 
middle ages, the disgraceful Church courts, and the abuses of letters 
of Indulgence, would have defiled her too. With the Greek Church 
the Greek people would perhaps have lost its Hellenism. Divine 
Providence saved the Greek Oriental Church and Hellenism by the 
means of Photius' (vol. ii. p. 21). 

In like manner Cerularius, whom one of ourselves lately 
termed* the vain Cerularius,* has more justice done to him 
than he could have received from a Latin writer. Cyriacus 
first tells the story of his closing the Latin monasteries and 
churches, and of his encyclic letter, in which he adds to the 
charges of Photius the complaint that unleavened bread was 
used by the Westerns in the Eucharist ; of the mission of 
Cardinal Humbert to Constantinople, and his insolent laying 
of the Bull of Excommunication upon the altar of S. Sophia, 
and the consequent excommunication of the Papal party by 
the Patriarch. He then adds : — 

* Cerularius finished the work of Photius, and he may be regarded 
as with him the saviour of the independence of the faith of the 
Eastern Church. Michael had not the wisdom nor the learning of 
Photius, but he showed firmness of character and great zeal for the 
rights of the Eastern Church ' (p. 27). 

Schism is always an evil ; but that schism is sometimes 
necessary, in order to preserve what is true and right, is indis- 
putable. Dr. Cyriacus thus describes the good which he sees 
in the division which took place between the Eastern and the 
Western Churches : — 

* The schism, besides saving the independence of the Churches of 
the East, delivered them also from the frightful errors into which the 
Papal Church fell in the middle ages, and on account of which at a 
later time there sprang up the Reformation in Germany and Switzer- 
land. All the attempts made since that time for uniting the two 
Churches have been vain. The schism remains and will remain 
until the Pope gives up all illegal and unreasonable despotical claims 
over the Eastern Churches, and until the Roman Church has been 
purified from the corruptions into which from that time forward it has 
fallen' (p. 28). 

In this division of his work Dr. Cyriacus describes the 
later religious life in Byzantium in a manner which shows 
that he has made a study of it, and he gives a sketch of the 
Nestorians, Armenians, Jacobites, Copts, Abyssinians, Maro- 

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1 882. Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. 319 

nites, and of the conversion of the Slaves to Christianity, for 
which we must refer the reader to the volume itself. 

The fourth part of the history, beginning with the fall of 
Constantinople and extending to the year 1880, contains the 
history of the Church in modern times. As usual our author 
begins from the Eastern Church, and from its centre Con- 
stantinople ; but he has not only to tell the tale of the enslaved 
Church of the Turkish dominion. He has the history also of 
the liberated Church of Greece proper to narrate, and that of 
the great Russian Church. From the Eastern Church he 
proceeds according to his method to the history of the 
Eastern Communions separated from the orthodox Church. 
Next he gives a history of the Protestant Churches, and ends 
with that of the Western or Papal Communion. 

The account of the Church under the Turkish empire 
begins naturally enough with a wail of mourning. The 
historian pauses and points to his beloved Greek Church as 
having been the most flourishing of all Churches, as having 
surpassed all others in the number and wisdom of its writers, 
in its pursuit of science, and in its influence on the world. 
'But,* he continues sadly, 'from the fifteenth century, after 
the capture of Constantinople, in consequence of its enslave- 
ment by the barbarous Turks it fell so far that only a few 
weak remnants were left of that hitherto beautiful building.* 
In modern times he allows that the other Churches of Europe 
are far in advance of her. Yet, that fall did not first begin in 
the fifteenth century : the inner life had been fading out of 
her long before ; the Mohammedan sword finished what 
internal decay had commenced. 

* Fortunately, however, we see that in these two last centuries, 
and especially in the present century, in which orthodox Russia has 
been raised to a great European power and entered into the order of 
civilized powers, and in which the kingdom of Greece has been 
established, and many other orthodox nations have been rendered 
politically independent, and the civil and social state of the East has 
been generally improved, the Greek Church has begun again to raise 
her head, and she may securely hope from the renewal of theo- 
logical studies which has already commenced within her that in the 
future she shall see again the glorious days of her ancient renown ' 
(P- 233)- 

We heartily say. So be it, to the Professor's aspirations. 
May Greek theological literature once more recall the days of 
the fourth and the first half of the fifth century ! 

Dr. Cyriacus recognizes the mercy, if not the fairness, with 
which the conqueror Mohammed at first treated his Christian 

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320 Dr. Cyriactis Ecclesiastical History. July 

subjects. He allowed them to elect George Scholarius, or 
Gennadius, as their Patriarch, and he recognized him, not 
only as patriarch, but as ethnarch, over all his orthodox 
subjects. The constitution of the synod was not interfered 
with, nor was its jurisdiction suppressed. Existing churches 
were recognized as the property of Christians, and the Church 
was allowed to hold property herself. Bishops were acknow- 
ledged as judges between Christians, and could only them- 
selves be accused before the Divan. The strange result 
followed that the Patriarch and the higher clergy thus 
obtained greater power personally than that which they had 
before enjoyed. Nevertheless, the Church soon found that it 
was subject to hard taskmasters. Churches were taken 
possession of or pulled down, Santa Sophia was turned into a 
mosque, and at last the Patriarch felt himself obliged to 
resign his office. The next Patriarch was made short work 
with, because he would not acknow)edge a marriage between 
a Mohammedan pasha and a Christian lady. The third was 
deposed for the same reason, having his head cut off after 
undergoing other insults. The Sultans set up and pulled 
down the Patriarchs as they pleased, and demanded rich 
presents of each new Patriarch. In the seventeenth century 
there were no less than fifty changes of Patriarch in seventy- 
five years. Every new Patriarch was obliged to give money, 
and this he obtained from the bishops under him, and the 
bishops from the inferior clergy. The result was that the 
leaven of demoralization and simony spread throughout the 
whole Church. The self-respect of the Christians was 
destroyed by their being forbidden to enter the army, and 
by their witness being refused in courts of justice, and by a 
poll-tax being laid upon them. They were not compelled 
to apostatize, but anyone who accepted Mohammedanism and 
then reverted to Christianity was put to death, as well as 
every Mohammedan who rejected Islamism. Crosses were 
removed from the churches. Bells were not permitted 
except in Mount Athos. Selim I., in 1520, having learnt 
from the Chief Mufti that it was a good thing to convert his 
Christian subjects to Islamism, decreed that all the churches 
should be turned into mosques. Christian worship suppressed, 
and all Christians who did not accept Islamism put to death. 
He was, however, induced to withdraw this decree, substi- 
tuting for it an order that all the churches in Constantinople 
should be turned into mosques, and that Christians should 
build new churches of wood. Some of the churches having 
been preserved by the gift of large sums of money, the decree 

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i882. Dr. Cyriactii Ecclesiastical History. 321 

was repeated by Murad III. in 1577, and it was only pre- 
vented from being carried out by the energetic intervention 
of the French ambassador. Meantime the youth of Greece 
was being draughted into the body of Janissaries. The 
consequences of these various oppressions were many conver- 
sions to Mohammedanism. Half the inhabitants of Albania 
and seven-tenths of the inhabitants of Herzegovina and 
Bosnia became Mohammedans. In Albania 300,000 were 
driven to embrace Islamism in thirty years. Cyriacus 
accepts Finlay's calculation that no less than a million 
Christians reinforced Islamism, and he considers that the 
majority of the present Turks are the descendants of these 

After a time European intervention, and the sympathy of 
the Russians for their fellow- religionists, made some improve- 
ment in the treatment of the Christians : but it is surprising 
that under such a system there was found even one Patriarch 
willing to die the death of a martyr, and another who exhi- 
bited the courage, piety, and learning of Cyril Lucar. It 
was the Greek insurrection which led to the martyrdom of 
Gregory V. On Easter Day, April 23, 1821, he was seized 
immediately after the Christian service and strangled in front 
of the patriarchal residence. After his body had remained 
hanging for three days, it was delivered up to the Jews, who 
dragged it through the streets and then cast it into the sea. 
At night the Greeks drew it to shore, placed it on an Ionian 
boat, and carried it to a place where it could receive Christian 
burial. Gregory did not stand alone in giving his life for the 
liberties of Greece. At the same time, the Archbishops 
of Ephesus and Nicomedia, the Metropolitan of Adria- 
nople, and the Archbishop of Cyprus, with three other 
bishops of that island, were beheaded ; while the Archbishop 
of Crete and five of his bishops were murdered upon the 
altar, and a sixth strangled. Gregory V. was not a learned 
man, but he was a patron of learning, and he edited a 
volume of S. Basil's homilies and S. Chrysostom's treatise 
De Sacerdotio, and he re-established the Greek printing press 
which Cyril Lucar had founded at Constantinople. 

Cyril Lucar had been Patriarch of Constantinople just 
two hundred years before Gregory V. No English Church- 
man can have other than a feeling of affection and admiration 
for him, owing to the relations into which he entered with the 
English Church, and the persecutions which he underwent at 
the hands of the Jesuits. From him, as is well known, we 
received as a present the Alexandrian Codex, and had he 

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322 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. July 

fallen on better times than those of Abbot's primacy, a better 
understanding might have been arrived at by his means 
between the Oriental Church and our own. Four times he 
was deposed from the patriarchate by the intrigues of the 
Jesuits, who did not shrink from accusing him before the 
Sultan of insulting the worship of Mohammed, and of per- 
suading the Greek islanders to revolt from Turkey. At 
length he was strangled, and his body was thrown into the 
Euxine Sea, while the Jesuits offered a vast sum of money 
to the Porte in order to purchase the appointment of the 
next patriarch. Dr. Cyriacus says : — 

* Cyril was an able, active, and learned man ; being a friend of 
letters he exerted himself for their dissemination, having himself been 
the first man who established a printing-press in Constantinople. He 
thought that by the education of the clergy, and by their moral 
transformation, the Eastern Church might be again elevated, and 
might be able to resist the dangers which were at that time so 
formidable on the side of Rome. This struggle, with the Jesuits does 
him great honour. To him we owe it that at that time Popery was 
thrust back from the East ; and the circumstances then were such as 
to mvite an alliance with the Protestants on the part of the Eastern 
Church against the common enemy ' (p. 293). 

The Greek Church did its part nobly in the liberation of 
Greece proper from the Turkish yoke, and it was at once 
recognized as the established Church of the countr>^ In the 
reign of Otho a commission was appointed, with Pharmacides 
at its head, which declared the independence of the Church 
of Greece on the See of Constantinople, and proposed for it a 
constitution similar to that of the Church of Russia. The 
declaration of independence was confirmed by the bishops of 
Greece in the same year. The Episcopal Synod was pro- 
nounced the highest ecclesiastical authority in the realm. 
Christ was proclaimed the Head of the Church, and the King 
its chief governor in external matters. At the same time all 
the monasteries which had fewer members than three were 
dissolved, leaving eighty-three for men, and three for women. 
Such measures as these could not pass without opposition. 
It was argued that the Church of Greece had not the right of 
declaring its own independence, and that the dissolution of 
the monasteries was profane. But this excitement passed 
away. A convention in 1844 sanctioned the arrangement 
made in 1833, only omitting the King's title of supreme 
governor. At it the following resolution was passed ; — 

* The orthodox Church of Greece, recognizing our Lord Jesus 
Christ as its head, is indissolubly united in dogma with the great 

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1 882. Dr. Cyriacui Ecclesiastical History, 323 

Church in Constantinople and every other Church of Christ which 
holds the same doctrine, observing unchangeably, as they do, the 
sacred Apostolical and Synodical Canons ; it is autocephalous, exer- 
cising its jurisdiction independently of every other Church, and it is 
governed by a sacred synod of prelates.' 

It was not, however, until 1849 that the declaration of 
independence was communicated to Constantinople. The 
Patriarch at once issued a document known as the ' Synodical 
Volume,' in which he ignored what had been done by the 
National Church, and appointed the course which they ought 
to follow. Pharmacides replied in a book which he entitled 
The Synodical Volume; or^ On Truths in which he protested 
that, as Greece was free, her Church must be free too. His 
views were adopted by the nation, and after a while the 
opposition of Constantinople gave way before the logic of 
accomplished facts. 

In 1866 the Church of the Ionian Islands was united to 
that of the mainland. 

* The clergy of Greece,' says our author, * were found after 
the insurrection to be in a state of deep ignorance, in which 
the rest of the clergy of the East were also sunk ; ' and yet 
this Ignorant clergy had been the only teachers that the 
people had had. One of the first efforts to remedy the evil 
was that of Dr. Hill, who established a school in Athens 
which has been the means of educating a large number of 
women of the upper class. * It was thankfully received by 
Greece,* says Cyriacus, * which was then without schools and 
thirsting for education.' We could have wished that the 
Athenian professor had added a few more words in honour of 
Dr. Hill and his wife, who have devoted more than half a 
century to the education of their adopted country, and are 
still living at Athens in an honoured old age. To the 
necessity of education and of an educated clergy our author 
is quite alive. 

* Only by an educated clergy can the Church fulfil its great 
mission, which is to teach the religious and moral truths of Clmsti- 
anity, and to frame upon them the lives and characters of the people. 
Otherwise the people, remaining without teaching, either sink into 
superstition, which always accompanies ignorance, or fall into religious 
indifference to the destruction of good morals. In order to be use- 
ful to the Greek people, the clergy must not be behind the leaders 
of the nation, but must proceed with it ; otherwise it will not be able 
to understand the religious needs of the people, nor be able to 
exercis© any good influence upon them ' (p. 360). 

We pass over the sections relating to the separated 
Eastern Communions, the history of the Russian Church, and 

Y 2 

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324 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History, July 

the history of the Reformation in Germany and Switzerland, 
in order to come to a part which, in one sense, is more 
interesting to us than any other, because it concerns ourselves : 
the history of the later Church of England. Here, as we 
have already noted, some mistakes are made, and it would be 
very strange were this not to be the case. We will mention 
some which the author may easily correct in a second edition. 

1. There is a not uncommon confusion between the twc> 
words K.avTafipirfLa and KavToovapla, Cambridge and Can- 
terbury. In the early part of the work, our Archbishops 
are called Archbishops of Cambridge. In the later sections 
they are properly termed Archbishops of Canterbury. Thus, 
Augustine is called apyLeTria-Koiros 'K.avrafipirfLasy and Theo- 
dore of Tarsus receives the same title (p. 205). 

2. Thomas Cromwell cannot be classed with Cranmer as 
a ' theologian ' of the English Church (p. 429). 

3. Barlow, the consecrator of Parker (whose consecration 
is freely admitted), could not be said to have become a 
* Calvinist ' (p. 430). 

4. It is too much to expect any foreigner to understand 
the real meaning of ' High Church ' and • Low Church.' Dr. 
Cyriacus seems on the right track when he describes the first 
as representing the old Catholic element of the Anglican 
Church ; and the second, the Calvinist or Evangelical ele- 
ment. But he is led astray by a misunderstanding of the 
words ' High ' and ' Low,' when he says that to the first party be- 
long ' the bishops, the well-born, and the rich, who, by their 
position, attach great credit to the Anglican priesthood,* and 
that the latter is made up of ' men of the people ' (p. 481). 

5. He states that Rationalism is represented in England 
by Bishop Colenso, without stating that Dr. Colenso lives in 
South Africa, and has been deposed from his episcopal office 
in the Anglican Church {ibid.). 

6. He says that ' the Puseyites place tradition on a level 
with Scripture ' {ibid,). 

7. He says that the Old Catholic movement was warmly 
supported by the English Government (p. 506). 

8. He says that union between the Anglicans and Ortho- 
dox meets with great difficulties, because the propositions 
which the English theologians assented to at Bonn in the 
years 1874-75 were not accepted by the greater part of the 
Anglican bishops and theologians in England (p. 508). 
Whereas, the Committee of the Convocation of Canterbury 
reported favourably of those propositions, without exception, 
and unanimously. 

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1 882. Dr. Cyriacui Ecclesiastical History. 325 

9. He says that ' Overbeck is working for the amity of 
the Churches * (p. 392). 

These are but slight inaccuracies, and sometimes we are 
inclined to wonder that the Athenian professor knows so 
much, rather than so little, about us ; but still they indicate 
a want of familiarity with English theological affairs which 
in so learned an historian we would fain see removed. 

Dr. Cyriacus gives a fair, if short, sketch of the introduc- 
tion of Christianity and of the establishment of the English 
Church in England, recognizing the great work done by the 
Scoto-Irish missionaries established in the northern island 
that in Greek takes the curious form of XC, which our readers 
will see is the other name of lona. He describes the British 
Church as being driven back into Wales and Northumber- 
land (Ba\f o-/a KoiX i^opTovfifispXdvSi]), and the heathen Anglo- 
Saxons converted by Augustine, who was received by the 
King of Kent, whom he calls Adelbert. He has no doubt that 
the old British Church was founded either mediately through 
Gaul, or immediately from the East, in consequence of the 
differences in discipline, doctrine, and ritual, between it and 
the Roman Churches, in respect to the form of baptism, its 
relation to the Pope (whom the ancient Britons did not 
acknowledge as their head), the tonsure of the clergy, the 
Paschal Cycle, the marriage of the clergy, and some forms of 
worship. The divorce of Henry VHI. he considers the 
occasion of the introduction of the Reformation into England, 
which he regards as accomplished in the reign of Edward VI., 
and restored after Mary's reign by Elizabeth and James. Of 
Parker's consecration he has no doubt, and he notes that the 
English are the only Protestants who preserved the Episco- 
pate and the Hierarchy as it is understood in the Catholic 
and Oriental Churches. He inaccurately describes the Thirty- 
nine Articles as 'the symbolical book* of the Anglican 
Church, and says that they contain *a certain moderate 
Calvinism,' but retain the consecration of bishops, priests, 
and deacons as essential and necessary in the Church. He 
adds : — 

' The Anglican Liturgy is for the most part a literal translation of 
the old liturgies, in which the Eucharist is represented as a sacrifice ; 
and die sign of the cross in baptism, the form of absolution, and 
many other things, were preserved from the Catholic Church. Thus, 
the Anglican or Episcopal Church exhibited a third form of Pro- 
testantism of a new type' (p. 431). 

The following testimony from a foreigner and a learned 
man is worth having and recording : — 

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326 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. Juijr 

^In many Protestant countries, especially in England and 
America, not only work, but also all sorts of amusements, are given 
up on the Lord's day, which is regarded as especially sacred to God. 
Reading the Scripture is the chief occupation in it. To this obser- 
vation of the Lord's day, the reading of the Scriptures, and the 
abundant preaching of the Gospel in the Protestant Churches, it is 
due that tke morals of Protestant nations are without question higher 
and purer than those of the other Christians^ specially of the Roman 
Catholics' (p. 443). 

Dr. Cyriacus readily acknowledges the life and energy 
which have exhibited themselves in England during the 
present century, and the zeal with which theology has been 
studied, especially at Oxford. 

The following is a description of two of our more modem 
parties as seen from the distance : — 

* The most direct opponents of Rationalism are the followers of 
Puseyism and Ritualism; the Puseyites, so named from Pusey 
(nouo-eu), Professor of Theology in Oxford, show great love for the 
doctrine and discipline of the ancient Church, which were assailed 
by the Protestantism of the sixteenth century, highly commend- 
ing the zeal of the old Fathers of the Church, and elevating tradition 
to an equality with Scripture. The Puseyites reject the old Calvin- 
istic doctrines of Justification and of the Eucharist, and incline rather 
to the Orthodox and Catholics. Ritualism is akin to Puseyism. The 
name Ritualist is given in England to those who wish to enrich the 
Protestant worship with rites similar to those of the Eastern and 
Catholic Church' (p. 481). 

It is interesting to see the way in which Pius IX. was re- 
garded by an Oriental Churchman. Dr. Cyriacus describes his 
early desire for political reformation and the liberty of Italy 
under his own temporal and spiritual sway, his change of views, 
and his flight from Rome to Gaeta in 1849, his restoration 
by the French in 1850, and his recovery of power. The 
decree of the Immaculate Conception, published in Decem- 
ber, 1854, ' although its truth had been most warmly denied by 
great Roman Catholic theologians, such as S. Bernard and 
Thomas Aquinas,' is described as an anachronism in the nine- 
teenth century. The Encyclic and the Syllabus of 1864 
were documents in which * he anathematized as heretical the 
ideas of Liberty, Faith, Religion, Knowledge, Independence, 
and Political Equality between clergy and laity, which have 
happily prevailed in modem European societies, and in fine 
all the principles of modern social and political life.' In 1869 
met the Vatican Council, attended by 7CX) bishops, in which 
* propositions, previously prepared by the Jesuits of the Papal 
household, were submitted to the blind vote of the bishops. 

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i8S2. Dr. Cyriacus* Ecclesiastical History. 327 

The principles of the Encyclic and the Syllabus were con- 
firmed, and the dogma of Infallibility was proclaimed/ in 
spite of the opposition of Rauscher, Strossmayer, Dupanloup, 
Gratry, Dollinger, and others. 

* In this manner the coping stone was placed by Roman Catholic 
fanaticism on the colossal building which the insolent ambition of 
the Bishops of Rome raised in the midst of the Christian Church. 
As though God would avenge this unheard-of daring of a man who 
claimed the divine attributes as his own, Rome was captured by 
the armies of the Italian Government in September, 1870, a few 
months after the decree of Infallibility. The temporal power of the 
Pope was thus entirely demohshed, and Rome was proclaimed the 
capital of united Italy in the midst of the indescribable enthusiasm 
of the whole Italian people. In July 187 1 the Italian Government 
established itself definitively in Rome, and from that time the Pope 
was reduced almost to the position of a simple subject, as he was 
before the seventh century, in the time of the Roman and Byzantine 
Emperors' (p. 504). 

The historian goes on to notice the death of Pius IX. in 
1878, and the succession of Leo XIIL, 'a learned and 
prudent man, who, by his first proclamation, showed that he 
was actuated by the same principles as Pius, aiming at the 
same objects as those which Pius pursued ; but, owing to the 
circumstances of the times, seeking to attain them by milder 
measures than those of his predecessor ' (p. 505). 

The mention of the Vatican Council naturally leads the 
historian to the recital of the last great event in the history 
of the Church, the Old Catholic movement. The principles 
of this movement were proclaimed in the Congress of 
Munich (1871), Cologne (1872), Constance (1873), Freiburg 
(1874), and afterwards at Breslau (1876), and Baden (1880). 

* At first they proclaimed the rejection only of the Vatican decrees, 
but they soon after proceeded to a more radical reformation in Church 
matters : the rejection of the Immaculate Conception, the introduc- 
tion of the language of the country for worship, the election of the 
clergy by the people, the reception under both kinds, and other 
improvements. Some of them desired at once to do away with the 
compulsory celibacy of the clergy, but the definition of that point 
was deferred. In 1873, Reinkens was consecrated the first bishop 
of the Old Catholics by the Bishop of the Jansenists, at Utrecht, in 
Holland. They at once established their theological school. The 
theologians at the head of this movement were, Germans, Dollinger, 
Reinkens, Von Schulte, Michelis, .Friedrich, Anton; French, 
Hyacinthe and Michaud ; and the Italian Passaglia ' (p. 506). 

We could wish the statement with regard to Passaglia 
were true ; but since his vigorous effort in opposition to the 

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328 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. July 

Temporal Power, and his defence of Cardinal Andrea, he has 
made no sign, his theological standing ground being rather 
that of Curci than of Dollinger. 

The proceedings of the two Conferences of Bonn are 
recounted at some length, the Greek Professor being both 
surprised and gratified at the amount of concession made by 
the Anglican and the Old Catholic theologians by way of 
meeting the doctrines of the Orthodox Church. * Never/ he 
says, * did theologians of different Churches enter upon the 
discussion of the differences between them with so much good 
will towards each other, and with so much sincerity of pur- 
pose * (p. 507) ; ' and the opinions of the theologians of the 
three Churches drew very near to one another' (p. 506). 
Having enumerated the points of agreement that were come 
to in 1874, and the formula accepted in 1875 on the doctrine 
of the Procession, he adds, * Everyone in the Conference 
expressed the prayer that the efforts for the union of the Old 
Catholics, Anglicans, and Orthodox might be successful, and 
strong hopes were entertained of effecting this desired union.' 
He thinks that the opposition offered in England to the 
Bonn propositions by * even some of the Puseyites and 
Ritualists' has thrown great obstacles in the way of the 
union of the Anglican and Orthodox, but he does not per- 
ceive the same difficulties in the way of the union of the 
Orthodox and the Old Catholics, and eagerly desires to see it 
accomplished for the good of both parties. 

* If the Old Catholics remain isolated, it is a question whether 
they can succeed and extend their movement. Fears are reasonably 
entertained lest this movement, too, be at last crushed under the 
colossal power of the Papacy, as Gallicanism was destroyed by it in 
the seventeenth century, and Febronianism in the eighteenth, as well 
as the reformations of Joseph II. As long as the Papacy exercises 
any great power in the Catholic Church, it is difficult for reformation 
to make way. The Roman is the Church of the stattis quo * (p. 509). 

And on the other side : — 

*The theological learning, which is in so flourishing a state 
among the German Old Catholics, would by the union beneficially 
affect us ' {ibid.). 

While seeing greater difficulties in the way of the union 
of Anglican and Orthodox Churchmen, he by no means rejects 
the idea as chimerical, and speaks of the effort with sym- 
pathy : — 

* While the proselytizing efforts of Protestants are irritating the 
minds of Oriental Churchmen against Protestantism in general, there 

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1 882. Dr. Cyriacui Ecclesiastical History. 329 

has sprung up among the Episcopalians of England and America 
a very friendljr disposition towards the Eastern Church, and the desire 
of a reconciliation and of amity between the two Churches has 
been exhibited. This was shown in the synods of the English 
Church in 1866, 1867, 1868, and their conclusions were communi- 
cated to the Patriarch of Constantinople, Gregory VII., by Archibald 
Campbell, Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1869, together with a trans- 
lation of the Thirty-nine Articles. This feeling on the part of the 
Anglican Church is natiural, for that Church preserved, after its 
reformation in the sixteenth century, the priesthood and many 
Catholic elements of worship, which bring it nearer than any other 
Protestant Church to the Oriental, and indeed to the Roman 
Church, standing, as it were, midway between those Churches and 
the other Protestant Churches. And for several decades affection 
has been shown by Anglican theologians (followers of Dr. Pusey) for 
the ancient tradition of the Church, and others have tried to intro- 
duce into the worship of the Church of England ancient ceremonies, 
rejected by the Protestantism of the sixteenth centur}\ But the 
great majority of those English who desire union with the Orientals 
have no idea of leaving the principles and traditions of the English 
Church. On the contrary, they hope that by this union the Eastern 
Church will purify herself, making her teaching and worship to be 
in accordance with Holy Scripture. And while the two Churches 
retain their own doctrines, they desire only the bond of Christian 
love between them. There are only very few Englishmen, easily 
counted, such as the Ritualists, who go further, and are ready 
to sacrifice the teaching and the laws of their Church for the sake of 
union. These philo-Oriental dispositions of the English have been 
strengthened by two events : the Encyclic of the Patriarch, 
Gregory VII., instructing orthodox priests to bury Englishmen dying 
in the East (1869) ; and the visit to England of the learned Arch- 
bishop of Syros, Alexander Lycurgus, to consecrate the new Greek 
Church at Manchester in 1870. This movement is still progressing 
in England and America. In 1872 the General Synod of the 
American Church wrote a letter to Theophilus, Metropolitan of 
Athens, and to all the Patriarchs of the East, expressing afresh the 
hope of union, to which the Patriarchs replied by the same prayer ' 
(p. 302). 

Unfortunately Dr. Cyriacus is quite deceived as to the 
position of Dr. Overbeck in England. In the first place, he 
apparently regards him as an Englishman, and next he looks 
upon him as a man that entertains friendly views towards the 
peace of the Churches. On the contrary, he is the most im- 
placable enemy of that peace that exists. For he is a man of 
an idea, and his idea cannot be carried out, except at the 
expense of the Church of England. Then let the Church of 
England perish! His idea is to establish an 'Orthodox 
Church of the West,' and he has been good enough to select 

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330 Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. July 

England as the sphere of his experiment. Of course if there is 
a Church of England at present with which Orthodox Church- 
men can hold intercommunion, the ground is cut from beneath 
his feet ; so this German convert from Romanism to Oriental- 
ism has set himself the task of so representing the English 
Church to his present co-religionists, that they may come to 
the opinion that all dealings with her are impracticable, and 
may give their sanction to *Dr. Overbeck's idea/ This 
sanction, we regret to say, he has actually obtained from 
many well-meaning Russians. A committee of the Holy 
Synod has been appointed to consider his * idea,* and has 
reported favourably upon it ; and a Russian religious society, 
which ought to have been better informed, has found the ma- 
teria.1 means with which Overbeck took a journey to Con- 
stantinople to gain the approval of the Patriarch for his 
plans. There, however, the busy schemer has failed to obtain 
success, and instead of meeting with praise, has found it 
difficult to justify his own ecclesiastical position in the eyes 
of the Patriarch. The last report, however, is — and it is not 
only a report — that a disloyal English priest, long absent 
from England, has taken up his * idea,' and offered himself 
for re-ordination to the authorities of the Oriental Church ; an 
offer which has not been accepted, but which may be assented 
to under a misapprehension, if the Patriarch is not better 
informed on the subject than the latest historian of the 
Oriental Church ; for the latter, referring to the action of the 
German arch-schismatic, says innocently : * The Russian 
Church nobly supports Overbeck in England, who is working 
for the amity of the Churches of England and Russia ' (p. 392). 
We are glad to know that a learned presbyter of the American 
Church has occupied himself in the task of enlightening 
Russian high ecclesiastical opinion on this important matter, 
and we hope that he will succeed, for already the want of 
* amity ' exhibited by the Russian Church in this matter has 
created a very bad impression both in England and America. 
Dr. Cyriacus appends to the history of each section of the 
Church a few general observations, which are of importance 
both as exhibiting the judgment of an Oriental Churchman, 
and as being corollaries drawn by a learned historian on a 
summary review of the facts which have come before him. 
The following are his last words respecting the Oriental 
Church : — 

' It contains eighty millions of members, consisting of Orthodox 
Greeks, Russians, Bulgarians, Servians, Slaves in general, Wallachians, 
and Asiatics. The Orthodox Eastern Church represents the Christianity 

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i882. Dr. Cyriacus' Ecclesiastical History. 33 1 

of the eight first centuries, in which it has abided. The middle ages, 
particularly the times after the Capture (of Constantinople), brought it 
low and reduced it to weakness j but the renewal in the present cen- 
tury of theological studies in Greece, and in the East generally, and 
in Russia, promises it a better future. It is to theological education 
that the Oriental Church must look for a renewal of herself and the 
return within her of the excellence of the primitive ages ' (p. 393). 

On the Protestant Churches his general remark is : — 

* They contain about ninety million members. The Reformation, 
seeking to re-shape the corrupted Roman Church on the basis of 
Scripture alone, has often fallen into great errors and has been divided 
into ten thousand Churches. However, it has constituted an advance 
on the Christianity of the West, for it has assailed the Papal despo- 
tism which lay heavy on the Christian world in the middle ages ; it 
has put an end to great corruptions of the Roman Church, and has 
restored the authority of Holy Scripture, which had been forgotten ' 
(p. 486). 

On the Roman Church : — 

* The (Roman) Catholics are about a hundred and twenty million ; 
therefore in regard to the number of its followers the (Roman) 
Catholic is the largest Church j but in no Church has the corruption 
of Christianity advanced so far as in her. And as long as that Church 
is oppressed by the Papacy, which is the enemy to all true advance- 
ment, we can have no hopes of a better future for her. Her delivery 
from the Papacy and from Jesuitism, which is so closely connected 
with it, is the first condition of her turning at all to better things in 
the future. For thus Catholic theology, having become free, can 
undertake the work of a radical reformation of the Catholic Church, 
which she greatly needs. The Old Catholics who have risen up 
against the Papacy, working in this spirit, are introducing a new 
period of advancement in the Roman Church \ but will they be able 
to prevjiil ? This time will show ' (p. 533). 

From these three final observations of the historian we 
see that his opinion is that the hope of the Eastern Church 
rests on the better education of her clergy and laity ; of the 
Protestant Churches in general on their submitting their 
unbridled liberty to the control of legitimate authority ; of 
the Roman Church on her internal reformation, effected by 
and after an gverthrow of the Papal and Jesuitical domination 
within her : a conclusion from which the Anglican Churchman 
will not materially differ. 

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332 On Preaching. July 

Art. v.— on PREACHING. 

1. The Decay of Modem Preaching. An Essay by J. P. 

Mahaffy. (London, 1882.) 

2. Lectures on Preaching. Delivered before the Divinity School 

of Gale College. By Phillips Brooks. (London.) 

3. King's College Lectures on Elocution. By C. J. Plumptre. 

(London, 1881.) 

4. The Cultivation of the Speaking Voice, By JOHN HULLAH. 

(Oxford, 1874.) 

The term ' preaching ' is explained by Hooker in a well- 
known passage of his Ecclesiastical Polity^ as * open publication 
of heavenly mysteries ; * and accordingly he is careful to note 
that it should not be confined in meaning to sermons, but be 
extended also to catechizing and the reading of Holy Scrip- 
ture, which is * a second kind of preaching.* This truth is by 
no means an unimportant one, though often overlooked, 
especially as regards the reading of Holy Scripture. Cate- 
chizing is happily becoming more and more generally recog- 
nized as an integral part of the Church's system, and an 
invaluable medium for conveying religious instruction not 
merely to children but to their elders also. 

With regard to the reading of Holy Scripture the case is 
different, and we cannot help feeling that the thought that 
this is a kind of preaching may serve to impress us anew with 
a sense of its importance and bring to light some forgotten 
aspects of the duty. The value of the Lessons in the Church's 
daily service as a means of instruction, especially for the poor, 
is one which it is impossible to overrate. In an age when 
books are plentiful and the power of reading daily becoming 
more universal, this is apt to be overlooked. Men can read 
their Bibles at home if they will ; but as a general rule it is 
to be feared that those form a very small minority who do 
so. In every congregation there must be a large number of 
persons who are entirely dependent upon what they hear in 
Church for their knowledge of the Word of God ; and in the 
case of those who can and do read their Bibles at home it 
should be remembered that to spell out a few verses with 
labour and difficulty is a very different thing from hearing a 
chapter or section read straight through with intelligence and 

^ E.P., Book V. chap, xviii. 

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1 882. On Preaching. 333 

reverence. ' I never knew before how beautiful that chapter 
is/ said one in the East of London ; * when I went home I 
read it for myself, but it was nothing the same. I wish the 
Father would always read the Lessons : he makes the Bible 
speak.' ^ Hence we are inclined to deprecate the practice of 
unnecessarily employing laymen to perform this office: we 
say unnecessarily, because it must not be overlooked that for 
those clergy who are single-handed this help is often an 
intense relief. But where there is no such reason, it is surely 
a mistake to delegate the duty to the schoolmaster, or to 
some zealous, but perhaps not too cultivated, lay helper. 
The clergy, who are bound by their ordination vows to be 
'diligent in reading of the Holy Scriptures,' and in such 
studies as help to the knowledge of the same, ought certainly 
to know and understand them better than the laity, and 
therefore to be better exponents of their meaning, and so 
better readers. The subject was touched upon some years 
ago by the Bishop of Manchester in one of his charges, and 
his remarks upon it are well worthy of consideration : — 

*I deprecate the practice, which I think is gaining ground, of 
appointing laymen — ^unless they are well-educated laymen — to read 
the Lessons in Church. Nothing is more important than that the 
Scriptures should be read with deamess, taste, feeling, intelligence. 
The substitution gives very little relief to the clergyman — if he will 
reduce the length of his sermon by ten minutes he will redress the 
balance of things — ^and to have the Lessons badly read is a very 
great loss to the congregation. It is tme that it is not everyone who 
can read as John Henry Newman used to read the Scriptures in his 
church of S. Mary the Virgin, in Oxford, when every word, uttered 
in simplest fashion, but pregnant with scholarly feeling, fell like 
music on the Hstener's ear, kept the great church spellbound, and 
touched the heart with a strange sense of spiritual power. I am 
thinking of forty years ago ; but I remember the effect as distinctly 
as if I had heard the voice yesterday. It is not everyone that can 
achieve this ; but everyone can say the Prayers and read the Lessons 
as if he felt them, and as if he wished that his hearers should feel 
them too. There is no part of our ministry which it is more worth 
while to do as well as it can possibly be done.' 

The truth of this will be granted by everyone, and yet it 
is strange how little care is taken in actual practice by many. 
It is sometimes said that everybody fancies that he is a good 
reader and that, therefore, nobody learns, and there is a good 
deal of truth in this. * To read and to write come by nature/ 
says Dogberry, and a good many people seem as if they 

* Charles Lowder^ P« 127. 

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534 On Preaching. July 

agreed with his view. It is hard for a man to learn that he 
needs to be taught reading, just as much as any other art; 
and there is a not unnatural prejudice against taking lessons 
from a professional elocutionist, arising from the fear of un- 
reality and of acquiring a theatrical style, than which nothing 
can be more objectionable. But, at the same time, there is 
so much with regard to the production of the voice which 
can only be learnt from one who has made a special study of 
the subject, and there are so many tricks and vulgarisms of 
which the speaker himself may be utterly unconscious, that 
we are persuaded that regular and systematic teaching of the 
art of reading ought to be insisted on as part of the education 
of all the clergy. We are well aware of the objections in the 
way, arising from the difficulty of finding really competent 
teachers, and from their high charges when found ; but if only 
the demand were greater the supply of teachers would soon 
be forthcoming. Something has been done already : a chair 
of * Public Reading ' was established some years ago in con- 
nexion with the Theological Department of King's College, 
and Canon King has added another to the many services that 
he has done to the Church by making provision for in- 
struction in reading in connexion with his Lectures on Pastoral 
Theology at Oxford, while in the last year those who have 
the management of the * Preparation Scheme ' at Cambridge 
have done the same ; and there are signs that several of the 
Theological Colleges are awaking to the importance of the 
subject. But much remains to be done yet. The creation of 
a sound public opinion is the first thing. The laity should 
cease to tolerate in silence the hesitating and unintelligible 
mumbling and mouthing to which one is sometimes compelled 
to listen. If only they would insist that the clergy should be 
able to read at least distinctly and intelligently, the remedy 
would soon be found. Here, again, the law of supply and 
demand would make itself felt, and if a man knew that bad 
reading would be fatal to him in the matter of obtaining a 
curacy, he would soon put himself under the instruction 
which he once disdained, and in no long time would make the 
discovery that after all there was much that he did not know, 
and that he would never have discovered for himself. 

But further, even if all clergymen were good readers, and 
gave proper attention and care to the reading of the Lessons, 
it is worth inquiring whether, if they rested content with this, 
they would be making sufficient use of this great instrument 
of instruction. It has often occurred to us that much more 
use might be made of reading in special services and at 

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i882. On Preaching. 335 

special seasons. We were present some years ago at a 
special service in Holy Week in a little country village, and 
the impression which it left behind has never been forgotten. 
The service was of the simplest character, and consisted 
almost entirely of the * history of the Passion,' from S. 
Matthew's Gospel, reverently and carefully read in three 
parts, divided by hymns. The effect was wonderful. The 
greater part of the congregation had probably never read the 
chapters consecutively, and so had no conception of the scene 
as a whole ; and it must have brought the events before 
them, and enabled them to realize them as nothing else could 
have done. But why should such a service be so excep- 
tional ? We never heard of a similar one elsewhere, and yet 
there can be no doubt that the experiment was successful, 
and that if more generally adopted it would put a great 
instrument of teaching into the hands of the clergy, and 
would supply the country villages with something that would 
in its way take the place of the Passion Music for the 
cultivated congregations of the towns. There would be no 
need to confine such a service to the season of Passiontide. 
Indeed, in the temporary Cathedral at Truro a service not 
altogether dissimilar in character was held last Christmas, 
under the presidency of the Bishop, * which consisted mainly 
of nine Lessons from Holy Scripture, teaching the truth of 
the Incarnation, each Lesson being followed by a carol (in 
one instance the Adeste Fideles), developing with the charac- 
teristrc vigour and boldness of carol poetry the thought of 
the Lesson.' 

The only criticism that we feel inclined to make on this 
service, of which a full account appeared in the * Guardian ' at 
the time, is that the Lessons seem to have been too short. 
We have plenty of short Lessons already in the offices in our 
Prayer-Book, and what we want in these special services is to 
have Scripture read in larger portions, so as to familiarize our 
people with the connexion of the various parts, and the order 
of events, and to get them out of the notion that the Bible 
was written in chapters and verses. For congregations in 
poor districts it might be foun